


Factions of the World

by LarissaFae



Series: Factions [1]
Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Rape, but it gets better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-11-14 09:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11205444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarissaFae/pseuds/LarissaFae
Summary: An exploration of Avad and Ersa's relationship, beginning to end.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [laburnum](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211024) by [alpacas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacas/pseuds/alpacas). 



> Why isn't there more Avad/Ersa stuff?
> 
> It's ok, bbys, I gotchu.
> 
> So alpacas and I are basically feeding off of each other like the sad trash garbage we are and it's glorious what up babe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of rape in this chapter, and depictions of graphic, non-sexual violence.

The banging on his door wasn’t going to let up. Kadaman was nothing if not persistent. “Avad! Get your ass out here! You can’t hide forever!”

“I can try,” he called back.

“I’ll break this damn door down if you don’t get out here! Are you ready?”

“I’m not going!”

The splintering of the door as Kadaman kicked it in made Avad wince. He hastened to put his lyre away as his brother stalked toward him, then made a dash for his balcony. Kadaman took after their father, though, and his burly frame crashed into Avad and they tumbled to the floor. Avad swore as his head cracked against the stone and he saw stars. He tried to fight his older brother off, but Kadaman had more training in fighting and the upper hand, in any case. He ended up sitting on Avad, pinning his arms at his side with his legs. Avad spit at him, and he laughed as it fell short of his face.

“Look, you little shit, you’re coming with us to the Sun Ring. Do you want Father mad at you?”

Avad glared. “Tell him I’m sick. I’m on my deathbed. I don’t want to watch innocent people be slaughtered.”

“Neither do I, but you have to go. I’ll put you in shackles and make you walk with the sacrifices if you don’t come willingly.”

 _“People,_ Kadaman,” Avad snapped. “They’re people. They’re innocent people. They have families and loved ones.”

He got a shrug. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. You have to go. Everyone else is ready. Come on, pretty-boy.”

Avad turned his head to the side and deflated. The sacrifices were getting more frequent, and more numerous. Bloodier. Horrific. It was all he could do to run to his rooms at the Sun Ring to throw up before doing it in front of his father. “Get off of me,” he muttered. “I’ll get ready.”

“Good.” Kadaman stood, then reached down and pulled Avad up, the shorter man’s feet leaving the ground momentarily from the force of the pull. Kadaman leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I don’t want to watch that alone. Thank you.”

He helped Avad dress. Nothing needed packed but Avad’s lyre and a book of poetry - the royal family was at the Sun Ring often enough these days that their rooms there held everything they needed. Avad had to be prodded to stand up straight and give the appearance of the confidence befitting a prince, but made it down the stairs and to the caravan without further incident. Jiran, Nasadi, and little Itamen were already in the first litter, five palace servants on either side to carry it, and it was with a heavy sigh and great reluctance that Avad joined Kadaman in the second one. They were at Bright Market before Kadaman raised his foot and prodded Avad’s leg.

“Hey.” Avad didn’t look up. Kadaman prodded him again. “Blur your vision. That’s what I do.”

“It doesn’t help the screams.”

“Maybe one or two will survive this time. We can ask for them to be made servants.”

“This isn’t what the Sun God wants. Father is mad.”

He hadn’t looked up, but heard Kadaman’s sigh. “Don’t you dare get caught saying that, brother.” The servants opened the litter door and he jerked his chin towards it. “Out you go.”

Jiran was glowering at him. “You made us late, boy.”

Avad ducked his head in a sort of bow. “My apologies, Father. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t. Hurry up, woman.” He stalked toward the barge that waited for them, gripping Nasadi’s upper arm hard enough that she winced, but turned her head to Itamen, holding him tightly. Kadaman’s hand on his arm stopped Avad from protesting her treatment at his father’s hands. Instead he made funny faces at his baby brother as the child watched him over his mother’s shoulder. Itamen giggled. It warmed Avad. He paused long enough to grab some fruit from a stall, empty of its vendor, but he heard the shaking and frightened breathing from beneath the cart. He dropped a handful of shards on the counter, not bothering to count. It was more than enough.

“May the Sun ever shelter you,” he whispered before half-jogging to catch up with his family. Once on the barge, he sat next to Nasadi and offered her a peeled orange with a smile. She didn’t look at him, but took it with a faint smile and nod. Itamen wiggled out of her arms and held his arms out for Avad, who picked him up and set him in his lap. He sliced another orange into eighths and put one in his mouth, only the peel showing. Itamen giggled again, then squealed with laughter when Avad made funny noises and rubbed the peel over his face. Avad fed him fruit, and the three-year-old was asleep by the time they had crossed the lake. Avad wanted to take him into his and Kadaman’s litter, but he didn’t trust his father to not harm Nasadi if they were left alone, so handed the boy back to his mother with a pained smile. She hugged her son and kissed his cheek.

“She’s absolutely miserable,” Kadaman observed once they were on the move.

“She bore a male, at least. She’s safe from sacrifice.”

“True. Hopefully she’ll bear another one next. A princess would be interesting, but useless. There’s hardly anyone left to marry her off to.”

Avad leaned his head back against the side of the litter and listened to the servants’ footsteps for a while. They didn’t dare make a sound. He could hear them trying to hide their heavy breathing. “Help me get them decent food tonight.”

“Who, the servants?” Kadaman snorted a little. “You’re too kind to them.”

He stared at the roof. “They don’t deserve this.”

“So play them a song. Pick their spirits up.”

It was a good idea. Avad leaned over and opened his lyre case, settling the instrument on his lap. He took a moment to consider what to play before choosing a quick-paced piece with the hope of picking up their spirits at least a little. At least it might distract them from the weight of the litter, the merciless heat of the sun, and the long trek to the Sun Ring. Kadaman tapped his foot, nodded along, and clapped a bit with the beat. Perhaps the music would reach Nasadi and cheer her, too. His second-mother deserved it. Avad hardly stopped playing until they got to the Sun Ring. He was exhausted and sweating by that time, but the more-relaxed looks and attitudes of the servants as he stepped out of the litter made it worth it. The servant who held the door open gave him a smile and a deeper bow than usual. Avad pressed the last of his apples into the woman’s hands. Her eyes widened and she hid them in her shirt quickly, before the guards saw.

“Share them,” he murmured. She nodded and dropped a quick curtsy. Kadaman just rolled his eyes.

“You’re too soft on them.”

“And you’re not soft enough,” Avad countered. “I suppose it evens out.” He got a snort, and begged a headache when dinner came around, escaping to his room with a plate of food as his father muttered about weakness. He waited until it was past midnight before leaving as quietly as he could and then padding to Kadaman’s room. He knocked softly.

 _“What?”_ was Kadaman’s somewhat breathless reply. He grunted and the sound of his bed creaking rhythmically and a woman’s faint whimpers made Avad’s stomach turn. Kadaman had no issue with bedding servants. They couldn’t say no, after all.

“It’s Avad. I need your help.”

He got a disgusted sigh. “Fine. Give me a minute.” Avad moved down the hallway enough that he couldn’t hear his brother and whoever had tickled his fancy. A few minutes later the door opened and Kadaman pushed her out, shirt clutched against her breasts. She didn’t look too distressed - despite Kadaman’s disregard of whether or not a servant actually wanted him, he did look to their pleasure, and woe betide anyone who harmed a servant he was bedding. Word about that got around. He was approached by servants often, looking for protection from abuse by the palace guards and occasional guests. Avad himself was occasionally propositioned. He always turned them down as gently as possible, but let them stay in his rooms for the night and let everyone assume he held the same views on bedding them as Kadaman did. “What do you want?”

“Mimaw should still be awake. Come on.” Avad turned down the hall, trailing after the yellow-haired woman as she ran from them. “She’ll have saved the leftover food from dinner.”

Kadaman snorted. “You and your crusade of goodness.” He slung his arm around Avad’s shoulders as they walked. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt. His vest was open, exposing his broad chest and sharply defined muscles. His pants hung loose on his hips. “You should take a servant. _They_ might be able to stand your sonnets.”

“I’m not going to bed someone who doesn’t legitimately want me, and Father banned me from writing sonnets at all.”

“And thank the Sun for _that,”_ Kadaman laughed. “For as much as you like poetry, you’re damn awful at it.”

That made Avad huff with laughter. “They’re not _that_ bad.”

“Oh, yes they are. Trust me. You’re terrible. Are you sure you don’t want a servant? That one was decent. Definitely not a virgin - knows how please a man.”

“I said no.” Avad brushed the thick lock of hair that insisted on falling across his forehead back. They were quiet the rest of the walk down to the kitchens. He smiled at the old woman who was tending the fire. “Mimaw. How are you?”

She pursed her lips as she looked him up and down and pointed to a plate piled high with meat that sat on the long table. “You’ve lost weight. Eat.”

“I already did, I promise.” She always tried to feed him. He got a glare and another, stronger, gesture, and immediately sat and forced the food down as Kadaman laughed at him. “You’ll be wanting the leftovers, then.”

“Yes, Mimaw, please.”

“Don’t let anyone catch you feeding them.”

“No, Mimaw.” She bustled around for a few moments, making sure the food was wrapped tightly. “Do you need help?”

“I’ve run a kitchen for forty years, boy. I know how to do this.” She finally turned and set the food in front of him. “Hurry.”

“Yes, Mimaw.” Avad dropped a kiss on her cheek and she smiled slightly as she rolled her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Just get out of my kitchen.”

Kadaman followed him, still chortling, as he hurried to the servants’ quarters. It was a large room with mats and thin blankets on the floor. He knocked, and gave them time to make sure they were decently clothed before opening the door. They were staring, clearly afraid of what he and his brother would want from them. The yellow-haired woman was being held by a brown-haired man. He was kissing her gently on the forehead. Avad turned to glare at Kadaman, who just shrugged.

“This is for you,” Avad said as he stepped in enough to set half the food on the floor. “Make sure it’s gone before morning. I’m … I’m sorry. For everything.” He gave them a half-hearted smile, then stepped back and closed the door again.

“I don’t know why you apologize to them. It’s not _your_ fault.”

“Because someone needs to treat them with respect,” Avad snapped. “Come on.”

“Where are we going now?” Kadaman was suspicious. “You’re not thinking of feeding the sacrifices.”

“Don’t they deserve a decent meal before they die?” was Avad’s question. “We can’t save them, but we can at least do this.” He got a long-suffering sigh, but when they had sufficiently intimidated the guards at the door to the cell the captives were piled in into silence, Kadaman, too, stepped forward to hand the food out. “I’m sorry,” Avad repeated.

“For what?” one of the women scoffed. “If you were sorry, you’d set us free.” She was shorter than him, but her muscles were clearly defined and she was holding her chin up in defiance, glaring at them both.

“I wish we could,” Avad replied as he handed her some food. She snatched it out of his hands and sniffed it.

“Is it poisoned? The least you could do is poison us and spare us from the slaughter.”

“No.”

“Do you think this makes us feel better about dying? Are you thinking of raping one of us, too?” She was full of fire, hair cropped short and angry brown eyes hiding her fear. Her entire body was tense.

Avad flinched a little. “I would never do that. We can at least do this for you.”

She spit on the floor and turned to give her food to an obviously pregnant woman. Avad’s stomach churned. She wouldn’t stand a chance against the machines. “Get out.”

“I’m ---”

“Get out!”

He backed up in a hurry, and Kadaman followed. For once, his brother didn’t needle him about his treatment of servants and captives. At his room, he gripped Avad’s shoulder and looked at him with eyes tight with pain. “I’m sorry, Avad. We’ll figure out a way to stop Father.”

“Not soon enough. Goodnight.” He turned away and walked to his room, laying awake until just before sunrise, when he got up to join his family in the morning sun salutations. The sun was at its peak when they gathered above the Sun Ring and watched the captives being led out. His father spread his arms out to address the gathered crowd.

“My people!” he bellowed. His voice echoed. The captives flinched, but the woman who had confronted Avad just glared up at him. Their eyes met, then he looked away. “May the Sun God accept these sacrifices and end this derangement of the machines that haunts us! May their blood sate the Sun’s thirst, and deliver us from this torment!” The roar that rose from the crowd was deafening and desperate. Avad whispered desperate pleas to the Sun for quick deaths. “Release the machines!”

The Watchers came first, hooting their warning cries as they bounded to circle the captives The captives only had crude weapons and shields to defend themselves with. Avad watched with a tight chest as they formed a circle around the most vulnerable of the group. The fiery woman was calling out commands, shifting the group to and fro. When the Watchers blasted their weapons at them, the entire group ducked and held their shields up before advancing forward. When the first Watcher leaped, the woman launched herself at it, hands grasping at the creature’s delicate wiring and ripping at it. She wedged her spear between the wires to help, then fell back as sparks flew. The Watcher struggled up with a scream and she scream back at it. The vulnerable had been backed against a wall, where they could be better protected.

The safety didn’t last. At Jiran’s command, the next wave of machines was loosed. The captives tumbled away from the weapons of the Scrappers, but some weren’t quick enough, and their screams of pain rose over the sounds of the fighting. Avad clenched his fists. Kadaman gripped his elbow. The captives’ numbers dwindled as more and more machines were let loose on them. Avad’s fingernails broke skin as a stray beam of energy ripped into the pregnant captive, spilling her child into the dust. Her husband screamed and launched himself at her in a doomed bid to save her, holding her body tightly to him and wailing. The warrior women screamed something at him, but it was too late - a Scrapper was on him, tearing at his flesh. The woman came at it and drove her spear into a vulnerable spot, but she was too late to save the man. She screamed in fury and attacked a Bellowback head-on, leaping onto its head to stab at the sack of fluid it carried as it spewed fire across her companions. More fell even as she pierced the container and drained it of its fuel.

Avad leaned against the balustrade and clutched at it. He was shaking. The captives were fierce, but by the time the last machine had fallen, there were only three left out of over twenty. The woman was amongst them, and she whirled to look up at the royal family, at Avad, and screamed again, curses and profanities and wordless anger. Her voice was hoarse and broken with fury and tears. She aimed her spear and threw it at them, but there was no way it could reach them and it tumbled uselessly to the ground.

Jiran held his arms up for silence from the crowd. “May the Sun God accept these sacrifices. Those who survived will have the blessing of serving in the palace at Meridian.” That brought hoots and jeers. “If they wish to survive,” he continued as guards warily advanced on them, “they will accept and not struggle.” He never addressed captives directly. It was beneath him. “Clean them up and tend to their wounds,” was his command to a servant as he turned away. “Come.” That was directed to his family, and they followed him without a word. Avad was silent throughout dinner. The captives were eventually led in, heads bowed but for the woman, who glared at everyone with a snarl. She was limping.

“She looks like she could beat the crap out of you,” Kadaman observed. “You like that sort of woman, don’t you?” Avad stared down at his meat, but the image of the small body falling from its mother flashed across his eyes and he pushed his plate away, standing as Jiran observed the captives and decided what their roles would be. He didn’t notice Avad leave the room. Avad paced through the palace for a few hours, unable to leave the memory of the sacrifice behind. He had made it to the kitchens, and Mimaw just sighed and handed him two bottles of wine. He drank half of one before stumbling back to his room, where Kadaman was waiting with a grin. “There you are! You missed the allocations. I grabbed a present for you.”

“Don’t want it,” Avad mumbled. He took another drink of wine. “Wanna forget.”

“Too bad. I think you’ll like it.” He opened Avad’s door with a flourish and grand gesture. “Ta-dah!” The woman was sitting on the edge of his bed, cleaned, dressed in sheer silks, and bandaged. Avad stared at her blankly. Kadaman nudge him. “Well? What do you think? You two got along so well last night, I thought you’d like her as a servant.” Her fists were clenched and she was glaring at him. Avad wondered if she had any other facial expression.

“Don’t want her,” was his now-slurred reply.

“Well, she goes to the guards if you don’t take her. I had to beg Father to give her to you.”

That got Avad’s attention, and he stumbled forward, throwing his arms out in a uselessly protective gesture. “No! No. No.” He was shaking his head. “No. No.”

Kadaman laughed. “Alright, then. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.”

He closed the door, and Avad turned back to her. He didn’t know what to say, but she let loose on him. “You damn spineless bastard,” she spat, literally. It hit Avad’s cheek and he jerked his head a bit. “Merna and Jorand were my friends. They’d been married less than a year. It was their first child. You give us food before we’re slaughtered but won’t do anything else, won’t try to save us. You could have done _something, anything_ to help. Don’t think you’re a good man just because you show us a moment of pity. I hope you die. If you untie me, I’ll kill you myself. How do you sleep at night, knowing what your bastard of a father does?”

She went on to curse him some more, and Avad took another drink as he swayed. “D’you think I don’t have nightmares?” he asked. She stopped mid-curse, something about a forge and hammers and his balls. “D’you … d’you think I like what he’s doing? That I haven’t begged him to stop?” Another drink, and he had to sit down on the floor in front of her, dizzy as his vision blurred. “I can’t forget …”

“I hope you get shredded like my friends.”

She was tied up, secured to the bed with ropes binding her hands and across her lap, secured to the legs of the bed. Avad tipped over on his side and closed his eyes. “So do I.”

She was silent for a bit, then jerked a little against her restraints. “Well, get to it, then.”

“... get to what …”

“Raping me. Killing me. Whatever you’re planning on doing to me.”

He held the bottle of wine out. “... was gon’ offer you a drink …”

“Well, get up then, you drunken ass, and give it to me. I’d like to not remember this in the morning.”

“What?” Avad struggled to sit up, then leaned against her knees and tipped the bottle against her lips. She gulped it down. “I’m … I’m not gon’ hurt you. I don’t … don’t wan’ hurt anyone … I’m sorry …” His chest clenched as he saw the blood starting to seep through her bandages. Her silks clearly showed her breasts and nipples, and he stared at them for a moment before he managed to think that she would want them covered. He crawled to the standing wardrobe and managed to struggle with the door until it opened. After a blind grab, he crawled back to her with one of his linen shirts, almost blacking out as his equilibrium shifted when he pulled himself onto the bed next to her and pulled it over her head. It hung around her neck. He belatedly remembered that her arms were bound. “Here.” She took more gulps of the wine. There was strong beer sitting on his desk. “Here.” It was a bad idea to untie her. Avad didn’t care. It would be a mercy if she killed him. He undid the ropes and she immediately punched him in the jaw. He fell onto the floor with a grunt and then flailed his arm to the desk. “Drink.”

She kicked him as hard as she could in the ribs. He held back a cry of pain as best as possible. The guards outside his door didn’t need to hear him. They’d kill her. By the time she’d downed the beer, she, too, was weaving. “They were my friends,” she whispered. “My friends.”

All Avad could do was apologize. He winced as he struggled to sit up again and crawl into bed. He sat with his head between his legs and groaned. The woman sat beside him and offered him the rest of the wine. He downed it, then fell backward and watched the ceiling spin. He was numb. She took the opportunity to slap him a few times. He closed his eyes and accepted it.

Finally she, too, fell beside him. “Y’not gon’ hurt me?”

“No,” he whispered. He was on the verge of blacking out. “... I’m Avad.”

“I know, y’shitfaced boar.” Then, “... I’m Ersa.”

It was the last thing Avad remembered before slipping into nightmares.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mimaw is awesome, and Avad gets beat up like the nerd he is.

Avad’s head was aching when he woke up. He groaned. There was shuffling in his room, the clink of armor. He pried his eyes open and stared at the guard who was watching the woman from the night before. He wracked his addled brain. Ersa. Her name was Ersa. She was still wearing his shirt, and it hit her right above where her legs met her rear. She was toned and agile on her feet, even with her limp. His shirt was thin enough that he could clearly see her breasts when the sunlight shone through it. It would have been a tantalizing sight if he didn’t have such splitting pain in his head. She turned and brought a tray to him. It had a steaming bowl of soup and a mug of something that smelled bitter.

“Here. This will help with the headache. The guard brought it.” Avad groaned again and flung his arm over his eyes. The sunlight hurt. Ersa sighed. “Eat, you ass.” The guard shifted and Avad mumbled something that was close enough to a command to stop that he stilled. Ersa set the tray down beside the bed and then crawled up onto it. “By the Forge, it’s going to take me a week to get to the middle of this thing.” He’d somehow gotten to the head of the bed during the night. She tugged and pulled until she got him upright, then retrieved the tray and held the mug to his lips. “Come on. This will help. Drink or I’m dumping it on you.”

She sloshed the mug threateningly. Avad opened his mouth and whined when she poured it down his throat. It hurt, but then it numbed his throat a little. The headache would start to recede in a minute or so. She was spooning him the soup when it finally did, and he sighed with relief. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Ersa. You’re Ersa.”

“That’s me,” she confirmed. “I’m only doing this because you didn’t hurt me last night.”

She still thought he would. He sighed again and shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was still a whisper. She snorted. “I don’t hurt servants. I don’t hurt anybody.”

“I would argue that not taking action to free captives counts as hurting people. Tangentially, at least. My friends are dead because you and your brother did nothing.”

“I’m sorry. We’ve tried to stop him.”

“I hate you all.” Ersa was now whispering. Avad opened his eyes and looked at her bruised and cut face.

“I don’t blame you.”

That got him a faintly surprised look, but she was silent until the food and drink were gone. “... I’m not sorry I hit you.”

“I’m not expecting an apology. I’m surprised you didn’t kill me in my sleep.”

“Too drunk. And the guard was here before I woke up.”

He shifted and she flinched just a little. It pained him, but he understood. “Ersa, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to touch you, or demand you go to bed with me. I don’t hurt servants and I don’t take unwilling lovers.”

“I’ve heard _that_ before,” she muttered.

“Did Kadaman ---”

“No. He left me alone.”

“Good.” He scooted away from her in order to stretch, then rubbed his face. “I need to bathe.”

“Yeah, you smell pretty bad.”

He snorted. “You’ll ride with me and Kadaman to Meridian. If you’re to be my personal servant, I want you with me.”

“Of course. My job is now to serve you in whatever capacity you desire.”

He narrowed her eyes at her. “... I can find nothing wrong with your attitude or words, but I have the feeling that that sentence contained more sarcasm than I’ve ever heard in my life.”

She gave him an innocent look. “Why would I be sarcastic towards a prince, my lord?” He touched his jaw, felt the bruise, and raised his eyebrow. She gave him a bewildered look before sliding out of the bed. “I’ll call for your bath. Do you need assistance bathing?”

“I’m not helpless,” he muttered.

She snorted. “Am I to have other clothing, or do you prefer me like this?”

He honestly couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. He, too, got out of the bed as she rang a bell. “I … Go get her appropriate clothing,” he ordered the guard. “She’s not going to hurt me. You can leave us alone.” The guard left and he gave her a short bow. “My apologies.” Some servants appeared a few minutes later, filing into the bathing room and filling the brass basin there. He could have run his own bath, but was still a bit dizzy. She followed him in and watched him as he undressed. His cheeks heated and he turned away from her. “Ah …”

“What? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He glanced over his shoulder, and she was looking him over critically. “Eh, I’ve seen better. Much better.”

He slid into the hot water with an appreciative sigh. “Oh, good. I hope your past lovers pleased you immensely.”

“They did. Then you let them get murdered.”

He had no answer for that, so he just slid under the water and held his breath as long as possible before popping up with a gasp. Ersa held out a bag of scrubbing sand and he took it, rubbing it into his skin and hissing as the foaming grains found their way into the cuts on his palms. His hair was next, then he dipped back into the water to rinse off before standing and letting a servant dump clean water over his body. Ersa handed him a towel, and he stepped out of the basin and then jerked his chin toward it. “Get in. Clean up.” She was genuinely surprised at that. “What? I’m not the only one who smells of alcohol. It’s still warm. You may want to undress your wounds. Go get more bandages, please,” he said to a servant. She bobbed a curtsy and hurried off.

Ersa looked at him for a moment longer before peeling his shirt off. He turned his face away until he heard her slide into the basin and sigh. Then he winced at her wounds. “I’m ---”

“If you apologize again, I’m going to punch you again.”

He clenched his jaw and picked up another bag of scrubbing sand. The corners of her eyes tightened with pain as she cleaned off, and she wasn’t able to reach her back. Avad knelt next to the basin. “Let me help.”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” she told him sharply, perhaps a little alarmed.

“And I’m not going to,” he told her soothingly. Her eyes were wide and wary. “Unless you would prefer a servant do it.”

She pursed her lips as she considered her options. Then she let out a brief sigh and turned her back to him. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be pampered by royalty.” Avad snorted and touched her as little as possible. Her muscles tensed each time he did. He wasn’t able to completely avoid her wounds, and made sounds of sympathy every time her breath hitched in pain. When he was done, her body and hair clean, he stood and turned around so a servant could douse her off. The guard had brought new clothes - ones befitting a palace servant - by that time, and as her wounds were re-bandaged and she dressed, he stared at the floor. “... Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not hurting me. I’m sure that will change, but I appreciate the kindness while it lasts. I still hate you.”

“You’re welcome.” They left the bathing room and he knelt on the prayer rug in the corner to make up his dawn salutations. Ersa just watched him. He stood up finally and turned to her. “I don’t need much assistance, but I can find things to occupy your time.”

“Letting me go home would occupy my time.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not possible.” She rolled her eyes. “My father keeps strict tabs on servants, even when they die.” He frowned when her stomach grumbled. “Did you not eat yet?”

That got him a shrug. “Feeding slaves isn’t really a high priority.”

“Servants,” he corrected her.

That got him a glare and a snarl and she stepped up to him, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Oh, really? Am I? Am I really? Because servants have the option to quit their job and go home. They’re also paid. Are you paying me? Can I quit? Can I go home? _Can I?”_

She had a point. Avad didn’t like it. He stepped back and sat at his desk. “... No.”

“Then I’m a slave. You can’t brush that aside, _my lord.”_ There was sneering derision in her words. Avad buried himself in a book of poetry and did his best to ignore her until a guard came to summon him before his father. He gestured for her to follow him.

Jiran was blinking around the throne room, swaying his head back and forth. Avad knelt on one knee and Ersa followed suit. He patted the floor and she scowled as she prostrated. “My lord.”

“If you get her with child, I’ll have it sliced out of her.”

Avad held back a sigh. “I won’t, Father. I promise.”

“She fought well. The Sun has granted her leniency. She will obey you in all things.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I’m sending Helis on another raid to the Oseram lands.” Ersa twitched a little. “I would send you with him, but you are weak of spirit and body. You will stay in Meridian and train with the army.”

“Yes, Father.”

“We leave tomorrow.”

Avad was grateful. “Yes, Father. I will need the woman with me in the litter. She’s proven useful to me.”

“What happened to your jaw?”

“I tripped and hit my desk, Father.”

“You’re clumsy, to boot. Just like your mother.”

That made Avad tense. His mother had died shortly after his birth. Jiran let out an irritated sigh and waved his hand. Avad stood and nudged Ersa gently. She stood and kept her head ducked as she followed him out of the throne room. He waited until they were alone in the hall before turning to her and raising a finger. “Do _not_ hit me again. You can sass me in private all you want, but you _will_ treat me with the respect befitting my station in public and around others. Is that clear?”

“As day.” She wasn’t glaring, but it was clearly an effort.

“Good. Come.” He led her to the kitchens and smiled at Mimaw. “Good afternoon, Mimaw. Ersa hasn’t eaten yet. Might we beg some food?”

“Can’t keep a decent meal schedule, as usual,” was the muttered reply as the old woman turned to start dishing up food from the platter of meat on a counter and pot of soup over the fire. The kitchen was warm and comforting.

Avad smiled. “I love you, too, Mimaw.” She snorted. “Ersa, this is my Mimaw. She practically raised me. Mimaw, Ersa is my new servant.”

Ersa got a beaming smile as Mimaw turned around with a large plate of food and what smelled like hot apple cider. “I’ll send two meals from now on, then. You can have the best portions, child.” She placed a small ceramic bottle next to the plate. “Put this on your wounds nightly, then bandage them again and let it soak in. Avad can help - he may as well make himself useful. He won’t harm you.”

Ersa raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

“Because you will tell me if he does, and I will beat him to within an inch of his life.”

“... I believe it.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Avad wandered over to the pot, leaning forward to smell it as Ersa devoured her food. He took a piece of bread that was sitting on the counter next to it, and was halfway to dipping it in the stew when a wooden spoon cracked across the back of his hand. “Ow!” He snatched it back, dropping his bread, and rubbed the sore spot as he glowered. “I just wanted a snack,” he muttered. Ersa coughed to cover her laughter. He got prodded with the spoon until he settled across from Ersa at the table and rested his elbows on it and his chin in his hands. “I’m going to starve.” Ersa had her hand on her forehead, covering her face as she ate. From what Avad could see, she was smiling. He perked up when a plate of peach- and cream-stuffed pastries was set between them, but the spoon came down again when he reached for one. “Ow!”

“Those are for Ersa.”

Avad let out an exaggerated sigh. “Great. You know her for three minutes and suddenly she’s the favorite.”

“This is true.”

“I’m going to run away. You’ll never see me again. You’ll be sorry.”

“We’ll throw a party, boy. Anything to stop those damn sonnets of yours.”

His hair got ruffled and he pulled away with a scowl. “They’re _not that bad.”_

Mimaw cackled and gave him a gentle slap on the back of his head. “Oh, but they are, boy.” She sat next to Ersa with a sigh of relief. “He’s been banned from writing them, child. They are truly the most awful things ever. He fancies himself in love and moons about the palace, composing them and driving off all would-be lovers.”

Avad covered his face with one hand. “Please don’t gossip with the servants about me. Especially not in front of me.”

She snorted. “Then turn your back, boy. Where are you from, child?”

Ersa sipped some wine and picked up a pastry, turning it in her hands without expression. “Oseram.”

“And have you family?”

She sighed. “A younger brother. Erend. But who knows if he’s still alive at this point.”

Mimaw looked at her kindly and pat her hand. “I’m sure you’ll meet again, child.”

Ersa huffed a little. “I’m twenty-nine.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not a child.”

Mimaw grinned. “Child, I’ve been alive since the Great Araman brought us out of the Savage East. _Everyone_ is a child to me.”

Avad was staring at the pastries. He really wanted one. Mimaw made the best desserts. Ersa noticed. “Oh, he’s hungry.”

“They’re your pastries. Will you give him one?”

Ersa picked up a pastry and looked at it, then looked at Avad and held it out. He reached for it with a smile. “Thank ---”

She pulled it back just before he took it, taking a pleased bite out of it. “Nope.”

Mimaw started laughing. Avad gestured at them with both hands and a pained expression. “What - but - but I’m the prince.”

“And I suspect that Mimaw holds more authority than you do,” was the somewhat mumbled reply as Ersa chewed. “She gave them to me. They’re mine. I don’t have to share.”

She was pushing her boundaries. Avad rubbed his chin and nodded slowly. “... I see. This behavior is unacceptable around other people. Remember that.”

“Of course.” After a moment, she glanced up at him. “Are you going to watch me eat?”

Avad turned his gaze away. “My apologies. I’ve never had a personal servant before. Believe it or not, I’m capable of taking care of myself without help.”

“Well, I’ve never _been_ a personal servant, so I guess we’ll both learn as we go.” She took a drink of wine. “Will you be needing my body tonight?”

Avad tilted his head back with a groan. _“No._ As lovely as I’m sure you are under the bruising, I told you, I don’t go to bed with unilling partners - and I count servants amongst those. You don’t really have the choice to say no, even if given it, even if I do nothing but pleasure you. I have too much authority over you.”

Ersa was watching him with narrowed eyes, then turned to Mimaw. “Is he lying?”

“No, child. I hear a lot of gossip, and the palace servants all speak very highly of him. Though having him or Kadaman take a servant as a lover _does_ give that soul a degree of protection from abuse, which is why Kadaman receives very little resistance to his advances. He also looks to his lover’s pleasure.”

“And what about _him?”_

“I have never known Avad to take a servant as a lover, but I’m sure he takes care of the nobles he beds on occasion.”

Avad was red, but he shrugged. “I’ve found that the more I please a lover, the more they want to go to bed with me. Might we change the subject? This is embarrassing.”

Ersa pushed her empty plate away and sighed with pleasure. “That was delicious. Thank you, ma’am.”

She got a warm, motherly smile. “Call me ‘Mimaw.’ I insist.”

“Thank you, Mimaw.”

“Good. I’ll spread the word that you’re Avad’s personal servant, and the others are to respect your authority as such. The servantmaster will fill you in on your duties, since Avad knows nothing but music and poetry.”

The kitchen doors slammed open and Kadaman stuck his head in. “There you are. Father wants us to train today. Hi, Mimaw. Got any food for me?”

“Only the scraps I was going to give to the boars.”

“Hah!” He strode in and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “When will you marry me and let me make you Queen?”

She laughed and pushed him away. “Only when you can bear the heirs.”

Kadaman ruffled her hair with another laugh, then strode over to the platter of meat and started eating it. “You break my heart, Mimaw. Did you enjoy your night, Avad? Did she give you that bruise?”

“I tripped,” was the answer.

His older brother snorted. “Right. Sure. She decked you and you liked it. Are you feeling better, woman?”

“Her name is Ersa,” Avad told him testily.

Kadaman held his hands up with a mock-fearful expression. “So sorry, your Radiance. Are you feeling better, _Ersa?”_

She nodded without looking at him. “Yes, my lord.”

“Good! And Mimaw gave you the oils. Excellent. Avad will nurse you back to health in no time.” He leaned against the counter. “You’ll be safe with Avad. He only likes music and poetry. No one in the palace will harm you. Well, unless Father orders it, but if you keep your head down and do as you’re told, you should be fine.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“And he’s banned from writing sonnets. Report directly to me if you catch him composing any.”

She nodded. “Now I want to read one.”

Kadaman laughed and tossed an apple in the air. “No, you don’t. Trust me. The nobles only listened and told him they were lovely because he’s a prince.” He took a bite out of the apple and then set it in front of Ersa. “Enjoy. Come on, Avad. If Father doesn’t see us training, he’ll pitch a fit.”

Avad sighed and stood. “Come on, Ersa. Mimaw, if you could have the servantmaster meet us in the training courtyard, I would appreciate it.”

“Of course, boy. Now get out of my kitchen.” She slipped Ersa a few more pastries wrapped in cloth with a wink.

“How did you sleep?” Kadaman asked as they walked down the hall with Ersa trailing them.

Avad shook his head. “Nightmares, as usual. I don’t remember the details. You?”

“The same.” Kadaman looked over his shoulder at Ersa. “You fought well. I’m sorry for your friends.” She met his eyes squarely, chin raised with pride and jaw tight, but said nothing. He shook his head. “Alright. You’ll have your hands full with that one.”

Avad shrugged. “That’s fine.”

“Father said he’ll have you writing treaties to the nobles when we’re back in Meridian. You’ve got a better way with words than I have.”

“Good. I prefer that to raiding.” They reached the training courtyard and Kadaman tossed a spear at him. The servantmaster was there. “Ersa, this is Servantmaster Din. He’ll give you all the information you need. Din, I’m not going to bed her, so don’t … just … leave that part out.” He was red as Ersa’s eyebrows twitched and Din nodded with a bow. “And sit in the shade.” When he and Kadaman were facing each other and out of earshot, he rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why servants need to be told what we like in bed.”

“So they can please us better, of course,” was Kadaman’s replied as they circled each other. He swung his spear, testing Avad’s reflexes, and nodded when Avad parried. “You know you’re going to hurt after this, right?”

“As always.” Avad stepped forward and Kadaman stepped back, their spears hitting each other almost casually.

“Maybe Ersa can help you bathe.”

Kadaman’s spear jabbed toward him and Avad hissed as it hit his side. He swung around and barely avoided the next swing. “I can do it myself, thank you. She’s too paranoid that I’ll assault her. I want her to trust me.”

That got a laugh as their sparring got more serious. “Just show her that perfect hair of yours. She’ll fall into your arms.”

Avad didn’t reply, too busy trying to put off the pounding that Kadaman was going to give him for as long as possible. His older brother was built for fighting, though, and well-practiced it. Avad caught his spear to the backs of his knees and toppled to the ground. He rolled to the side just as the spear cracked down next to his head, then grabbed it and yanked. Kadaman stepped forward with it, which let Avad roll to the side again and scramble to his feet enough to headbutt his brother. Kadaman grabbed him by the neck and held him between his body and arms, rubbing his fist into Avad’s skull as he laughed.

“Give up!”

“Augh! Stop it!”

“Do you give up?”

Avad was trying to reach his arms up to Kadaman’s face, but he couldn’t from the position he was in. If he dropped to his knees, Kadaman would gleefully choke him until he passed out. If he tried to surge forward, Kadaman would just turn around and around until he was dizzy. Avad garbled something. Kadaman loosened his grip slightly. “Yes! I give up!”

“Good!” He was spun away and then Kadaman was coming at him with the spear again. Avad was too disoriented to avoid him. He cried out in pain when the spear came down on his back, and though he tried to avoid it, Kadama hit him again and again, until he lay on the ground in a fetal position, panting. “Are you crying?”

“Not yet,” he whispered.

“Well, enough for today. Come on, I’m sure Ersa would love to help you back to your rooms.” Kadaman yanked him up and Avad winced. He was handed off to the Oseram woman. “Make sure he bathes. Dinner is in two hours.”

“Of course, your Radiance.”

Her hand on his elbow steadied him. Avad wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “I think I hate him.”

“It was fun to watch you run away, at least.”

It was said cheerfully, and Avad glared at her. “I’m glad my pain amused you.”

“Any Carja in pain amuses me.” She pursed her lips and reconsidered. “Well. Maybe not children or women. But your pain does.”

“Anyone else would beat you for your impertinence.”

“But you promised you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“And I will abide by that promise.” He stumbled on the stairs and Ersa pulled his arm over her shoulder. He leaned heavily against her.

“You need to toughen up. He’ll keep picking on you until you wipe the floor with him. That’s gonna be one hell of a shiner.”

“He’s always been like that.”

“You must take after your mother.”

Avad nodded. “She was … very gentle, from what I’ve been told.”

Ersa was quiet. Then, “What happened?”

He thought about not answering, but he wanted her to trust him. “There were … complications … from my birth a few months after it. She passed away.”

“... I’m sorry to hear that. My aunt passed away in childbirth.”

“... I’m sorry.” They’d gotten to his rooms and Ersa drew his bath as he sat in a chair and watched. She helped him undress without a word, and steadied him as he stepped into the basin. He lay in it with a sigh as the hot water soothed his muscles and bruises. “Din didn’t … he obeyed me, right?”

Ersa smiled a little. “Yes. He wasn’t happy about it, but he did.”

“Good.” It was a few minutes later before he spoke again. “Mother’s death wasn’t … it wasn’t anything that could have been avoided, short of not getting pregnant. I feel guilty about it. Like it was my fault.”

“And if I hadn’t led my Freebooters to that valley, we wouldn’t have been captured. We can’t see the future. You were a baby.”

He opened one eye. “Freebooters?”

“Mercenaries for hire, essentially, but more loyal to their employers.”

“It’s unusual for a woman to have rank in your society, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “My father was my clan’s chief, drunk though he was. That gave me more clout. It’s not like women are treated much better by the Carja.”

“I’d like to change that.”

“I’m sure you would. Where am I sleeping tonight? The servantmaster said if I were to stay here, I’d have to be bound to the bed or a cot.”

“Where would you like to sleep?”

“In the bed,” was her quick answer. “Alone.” She knelt by him and held up a bag of bathing sand.

Avad sat up and let her start washing his back as he scrubbed his chest. “If you like.”

“You’d give up your bed to me?”

She sounded incredulous. He shrugged and sighed as her fingers dug into aching muscles. “It’s big enough that we could sleep on opposite sides and never touch, but yes. I can sleep on a cot just as well as a bed.”

“... What will you want in return?”

“For you to stop assuming that I’m going to rape you.” Then he sighed. “I understand your suspicion, Ersa. It’s … difficult … to convince new servants that I won’t touch them. I don’t like being thought of as an abuser of anyone, but … I understand.” She dumped water over his head and started scrubbing his hair without a word. She helped him dress and followed him to the dining room, where she took his food and drink from the servants and served him herself. His father glared, but said nothing. Once back in his rooms, she picked up the oils that Mimaw had given her and then looked around. Avad sat at his desk with his back to her. “Let me know when you need help.”

There was shuffling for a moment, then silence until she spoke. “I’m ready.”

Avad turned and she was sitting on the bed with her back to him, bare, her shirt held against her chest. He pulled his chair out. “Here. This might make you more comfortable.” Ersa slid into it and relaxed a little. “I have to touch you. I’m sorry.”

“You apologize a lot, for royalty.”

“I’ve been told it’s a fault.” He was as gentle and quick as possible. She still tensed at every touch, whether in pain or revulsion. After he was done, he turned around so she could dress in the nightclothes that had been delivered.

“Alright, tie me down.”

He did so with another murmured apology, but she just shrugged and stared at the ceiling. “A guard will be in in the morning to untie you. I have things I need to do, still.” He paused. “Sleep as well as you can.”

“Sure thing, your Shininess.”

Avad’s lips twitched. He wanted to run his hand over her hair to comfort her, but instead turned away and sat at his desk. He stared moodily at it until he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trufax, i accidentally wrote ersa's song to the tune of 'the first noel' and now u can't ever unhear it so who really wins here hint it is none of us because that song is now in our heads forever

She watched him carefully. True to his word - for the time being - he hadn’t laid a hand on her past helping her bathe - and he always gave her something to cover her front with. He turned away when she dressed or undressed, and turned away when he himself did. Sometimes she caught him staring at her, but his gaze held no heat of desire. He’d asked her to read to him from his book of poetry a few weeks ago, and had been aghast to learn that she didn’t understand Carja glyphs. He’d been teaching her ever since. Once a week or so he brought her down to the kitchens for a special meal with Mimaw, and true to the ancient woman’s word, Ersa was always sent the better meal. Avad found it amusing, and had once given her a small, good-natured ribbing because of it. She’d called him a shitfaced boar - her current favorite insult - and he’d cheerfully agreed. He ignored or agreed with all of her insults. It was nearly impossible to get under his skin. She supposed she could have brought up his guilt over his mother, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She was half-afraid he’d start crying.

He was playing his lyre. He would stop soon and turn to his history scrolls. Ersa quietly padded to his desk to arrange them, her feet bare except for decorative anklets because how far could a slave run on bare feet? She’d learned his habits well over the past two months and had made herself absolutely indispensable to him, to the point where he relied on her for almost everything, from a new quill to reminding him of any changes to his schedule. He had continued to let her sleep in his bed, and either slept at his desk or moved the chair to the opposite side of the bed, tilting back in it and propping his feet on the bed, sleeping like that. She had no intention of refusing the special treatment, but did make a note to find him a chaise lounge. He moved gently around her. When he had to touch her, he let her know, kept it gentle, and let her go as soon as possible. She was still jumpy around men, still expected to wake up to find him on top of her, pawing at her, his hands up her shirt and pushing her legs apart. It hadn’t happened yet. She suspected he was waiting until she let her guard drop.

“Do you sing?”

She almost missed his soft question, and paused before turning around. “Not well.”

“Oh.”

He was concentrating on the lyre, and Ersa tilted her head and walked toward him. He kept his head down, but rolled his eyes up briefly. She never approached him unless required to. “Would you … like me to?”

He strummed the lyre and nodded slowly. “If you would like to. I should like to hear what the Oseram sing about.”

Ersa settled before him, legs crossed. She opened her mouth a few times and took a few breaths, then let out a long sigh. Avad was waiting for her to do something. She closed her eyes and thought of home, the barren land around the clans, the thick forests beyond that, the constant smell of smoke and metal in the air, the loud arguing that went on all day and night. Her voice dipped low and high with her song.

_“By the Forge/and by the Fire/by the smoke rising higher/by the metal we bend/forging strength without end./In the heat of the kiln/in the slam of the hammer/lies the soul of our tribe/lies freedom open wide./For we work with our hands/and take pride in our lands/and there’s no one can tame us/the Oseram.”_

The prince was silent until he was sure that she was done. Then he let out a soft sigh and was smiling when she opened her eyes. “That was beautiful. Thank you.” His brown eyes were full of warmth, his cheek resting against his lyre. She couldn’t afford to trust him. “What’s the Claim like?”

“... Loud,” she finally said. “Very loud. Very … boisterous. Smelly, but in a good way. The forges are always going, and we’re always arguing. Why? Are you considering joining a raid?”

His brows furrowed before he brushed his bangs out of the way. The thick hair fell right back into place. “Of course not. I was just curious.” He set the lyre in its case and Ersa stood, walking backward to the corner of the room. He waited until she’d stopped before getting up. She knew it pained him that she still didn’t trust him. She didn’t care. She trusted him enough to sleep in his bed - he should have been grateful for that alone. As soon as he’d sat, she brought him a freshly-sharpened quill and pot of ink. She had a sheaf of blank paper ready beside the scrolls. He liked to take notes on his studies, and it drove the palace librarian crazy when she returned the scrolls with the notes all over them. The last time she’d returned some scrolls, the man had slipped her some sweets as thanks.

She busied herself with cleaning up while he studied. He was a tidy man by nature, so there wasn’t much to do, but she remade the bed neatly anyway and opened the doors to the balcony to let the cool night air in. After a glance over her shoulder she stepped outside and leaned against the balustrade. The air was crisp this far up, and the city glittered below her, warm lights shining from windows, a few fires going here and there. It never seemed to sleep - there was always something to do. She thought she might like it, were circumstances different.

But circumstances weren’t different, and she was still a slave at the mercy of her captors no matter how kind they may be to her. She probably could have declined to sing, but then again, maybe not. There were plenty of men who feigned kindness until it was too late for their victims. And if he let it slip that she hadn’t done as he’d asked, she could get in trouble. A beating at the very least, unless she was thrown to some of the crueler guards or advisors. The other slaves told stories of who to avoid. She closed her eyes against the memories and hunched her shoulders.

“Please don’t jump.”

Ersa whirled with wide eyes and a stopped heart. Avad was in the doorway, shirtless, and she knew that this was it. He wanted her, and he was going to have her, and unless she _did_ jump, there was nothing she could do to stop it. She pressed back against the balustrade and just watched him.

Avad sighed and pulled a nightshirt on. She hadn’t noticed him holding it. “Is that better?” he asked. She couldn’t talk. “I need you to sleep in the servants’ quarters tonight. I have a … guest.” His face was neutral, but behind him, Ersa caught a glimpse of a lovely noblewoman. She hadn’t heard her come in. His neck had the beginnings of a bruise on it. Her shoulders slumped with relief.

“Of course, your Radiance.” She bowed her head briefly and then walked into the room with her chin held high. She paused long enough to pick up her own nightshirt. She ignored the noblewoman, made her way down far too many flights of stairs until she got to the bowels of the palace, nodded to the guard standing outside the servants’ quarters. He unlocked the door and let her in, and the entire room stopped what they were doing to stare at her. She squared her shoulders. “Hi.”

“Look who deigns to join us,” Gend bit out. “Visiting the little people, are you?”

“I do as the prince commands,” she told him coolly, “and he commands that I stay in his rooms.” He looked away. “Is there room for me? He has a … guest … tonight.”

“Got tired of you after two months, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” Marda snapped as she slapped his arm. “Ersa doesn’t have a choice, just like the rest of us. It’s not her fault he favors her.” She sniffed. “Besides, it’s none of your business if he beds her or not.”

“Which he doesn’t,” Ersa snapped, “and thank the Forge for that.”

Marda glared until Gend turned away, then smiled at Ersa. “Come, you can sleep next to me.” Ersa was glad to change and lie down. “Does he treat you well?” the older woman whispered. “I hear he treats slaves well.”

“Yes,” Ersa whispered back as the candles were blown out one by one. “He isn’t cruel. He doesn’t so much as touch me if he doesn’t have to. I think he still doesn’t know what to do with me. He just … studies and plays his lyre.”

“Is he a simpleton?”

Ersa snorted. “Hardly. He just … I don’t think he has any aspirations to the throne. Sometimes he keeps the queen company. He loves Itamen.”

“That poor woman,” Marda sighed. “She must be around Avad’s age. To be married to a cruel man old enough to be her father …”

“She’s a pitiful thing,” Ersa agreed. “She’s as much a captive as we are.” They fell silent after that, and Ersa didn’t remember drifting off. She awoke with a start when the door banged open. All the slaves sat up in alarm.

“Stay down,” Marda hissed, tugging at her arm. “Don’t let them see you.”

There were three soldiers just inside the room, scanning it. Finally the taller one pointed. “You. Get up.” His friends pointed at two other women, their other hands on the hilts of their swords. It was when the women got up that Ersa realized what was going on and jumped up.

“No!”

The taller soldier turned to her in surprise. “What?”

She started pulling her uniform on, glaring at him and mustering all the authority in her voice and posture that she could. “I said no. Prince Avad has commanded that the servants be left alone from now on. He sent me here last night to make sure his orders were followed.” Then she sniffed derisively. “I see you didn’t get the message. Or ignored it.” The guards looked at each other, unsure if she was lying or not. “I’m his personal servant,” she added. “Shall we go up and ask him directly?”

It was a gamble that could cost her her life. Ersa stared the guards down. Finally the taller one snarled and gestured to his friends. They left, and she waited until the door had locked again before letting out her breath. The three women had hurried to the back of the room for safety. She was probably going to die.

“Is that true?” Marda asked. “Did he really say that?”

The slaves might die, too. Ersa shook her head. “No. But I’ll take full responsibility for it.”

“What if they ask him?” Gend demanded.

Ersa took the time to properly dress before answering. “Then I tell him the truth. If he cares half as much about our welfare as he claims to, he’ll understand.”

There was a sudden banging on the door that had them all jumping, then Avad’s terse voice. “Ersa.”

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Your Radiance.”

“Get out here. Now.” She was silent. He banged on the door again. “Get out here, or I’m coming in to get you.”

“He’ll understand, huh?” Gend asked.

The door flew open and Avad stood tall in the doorway, his face dark with fury. Ersa matched his glare. _“Now,”_ he demanded again. She looked around and then stepped toward him. She took her time. Once she was within grabbing distance his hand shot out and he gripped her upper arm, pulling her out of the room and slamming the door behind him. He stalked down the hallway, propelling her forward with his palm rather than squeezing her tight. He looked around after a minute or two and then threw a door open, pushed her into a storage room, and closed the door behind himself before whirling on her and raising a shaking hand to point at her accusingly. _“What_ the _hell_ did you tell those guards?”

She refused to step back. She raised her chin. “They were after the women.”

_“What did you tell them?”_

There was no use in lying. She was calm, the calm that overtook her right before a battle. “What it took to save the women. That you’ve ordered that the slaves be left alone from now on, and sent me - your personal servant - to make sure they weren’t accosted.”

Avad closed his eyes as he took deep breaths, then rubbed his face. “And what made you think that that was a good idea?”

“It was the only thing I could think of,” she replied. “If you’re going to beat me, just do it.”

“I’m not going to beat you,” he snapped. “I’m trying to think of how to keep us _both_ out of trouble. If Father finds out about this …”

Ersa narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to tell them the truth?”

He took his over-decorated crown off to grab two fistfulls of glorious hair. “No. I’m not. I told the guards - I was coming down to get you anyway - I told the guards that you were telling the truth. If Father finds out - _when_ Father finds out ---”

“Slaves are valuable,” Ersa interrupted. He looked at her in surprise and let his hair go. It stood on end and made him look ridiculous. “When they’re beaten, when they’re hurting, they can’t do their jobs properly. If they get pregnant, they can’t work. Yes, they’re replaceable, but then you have to train them, beat the rebellion out of them. The guards and nobles can go find whores in the city.”

He looked at her for a moment before letting out a slow breath. “You … have a point. A good one. And no one likes to see terrified servants, anyway. Did I hurt you?” He gestured to her arm, and she looked down at it.

“No.”

“Good. My apologies for my behavior. I was caught off-guard. I was … I was worried about you.”

Ersa scoffed. “I can take care of myself.”

“Not from my father.” Avda shook his head sharply and opened the door, then jumped a little “Marad! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Ersa was curious. She’d heard about this Blameless Marad before, had seen him around but hadn’t ever interacted with him. He was immaculately dressed and his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“My apologies, your Radiance. I was wondering if you were going to stay in this closet all day, or if you were going to join your brothers and the queen for lunch. Your father has locked himself in his rooms.” He glanced at Ersa, then raised an eyebrow at Avad.

“We had things to discuss. I’ve ordered that the slaves are to be left alone and unmolested from now on.”

Marad was looking at Ersa again. She looked him square in the eye. “Did you, now.”

“Yes, I did. Is there a problem? Slaves are no use when they’re broken and terrified.”

“You make a good point.” He was talking to Ersa even while his face was turned to Avad. “I shall speak with your father about it.”

“Thank you. Come.” That was said to Ersa, and she obediently followed him out of the closet. “How angry will Father be if I cut back the taxes on the poorer of our people? I’m sure I can shift things around so that we don’t lose revenue.”

“Your father no longer cares about such trivial things. So long as the nobles don’t protest to him, do as you like.” They talked of minor state matters until they got to the royal dining room. “Fix your crown, your Radiance.” Avad brushed his bangs back and pulled the crown back on, re-wrapping it a bit before two guards opened the door and Kadaman’s voice boomed out cheerfully.

“Avad! How is the Lady Talanih? Talented as ever?”

Avad huffed a little. “None of your business.”

“Bah, don’t be shy. Everyone knows you bed her when she’s here. She had the tea after, yes?”

It was a bitter tea, meant to prevent pregnancy when had after sex. The female slaves got a stronger version monthly, which forced out their menses and any pregnancy they carried. The more it hurt, the father along they knew they were. Avad nodded.

“Yes. Now leave me alone about her.” He stooped down to pick Itamen up, who had toddled over to him happily. “Hello, brother. How are you today?” Itamen looked at Ersa and then hid his face in Avad’s shoulder. Avad kissed the side of his head. “This is Ersa, Itamen. She helps me. Can you say hello?” The child shook his head. Avad kissed him again. “As you wish. You don’t have to say hello if you don’t want to. Lady Nasadi, how are you?” He sat across from her and let Itamen take his crown.

Nasadi looked at her plate. “Well, thank you.”

“Shall we play cards after lunch?” he asked. “With Ersa, we have four. Come, Ersa, sit.”

Kadaman scoffed. “You’re letting a servant sit with us? Are you mad?”

“No, I’m polite,” was the slightly acidic reply. “I can’t cut my food when I’m holding Itamen.” It was a ridiculous excuse, and everyone knew it, but Kadaman just sighed and let it go. Ersa got a significantly smaller portion of the meal, but it was excellent regardless. “I’m going to cut taxes on the poor.”

“Oh, by the Sun, you’re _absolutely_ mad.”

“I think it can work,” Avad protested. “If we raise several taxes a little bit, over a period of time, the nobles will hardly notice. We could require an increase in tithing - perhaps a flat percentage of one’s income.”

“That won’t work.” The words were out of Ersa’s mouth before she could stop them. Avad and Kadaman turned to look at her.

“What do you mean, woman?”

She sighed. Kadaman outranked Avad. He could have her punished. Her and her big, fat Oseram mouth. “You can’t tax at a flat rate. If someone makes a thousand shards a month, that’s nine hundred shards they have left. That’s plenty, but for someone who only makes a hundred shards, that’s ninety. It would be better to have a sliding scale - two or three percent for the poorest, maybe up to twenty percent for the richest. I would make at least four tax groups, based on income.”

“And why should the wealthy give up so much more?” Kadaman demanded.

“Because they have more to give,” was Ersa’s sharp reply. “I’m not saying to drain them dry - I’m saying that the more one gets from society, the more one should give back. There are people starving in the city, my lord - or do you not care about your citizens?” And yes, there was the sarcasm.

Avad was grinning as Kadaman bristled. “That’s an excellent idea. You’re absolutely right. We’ll have to think of a way to implement it with as little fuss as possible, but I like it.”

That got a guffaw from Kadaman. “Don’t include me in your crusade for justice. You’re --- oh. You were talking to _her.”_

Avad was still looking at Ersa with a smile, and turned his head just slightly toward his brother. “Hm?”

He got a grape thrown at him. “Just bed her and get it over with, would you?”

“I like that idea,” Nasadi put in as Avad opened his mouth to reply. Instead he turned his attention to her. She fiddled with a pack of cards. “We should all pull our weight in these troubled times.” Then she took the cards out and started shuffling them, having said her piece.

Avad was back to grinning, this time at Kadaman. “See?”

Ersa was quiet as Avad explained the rules of the game to her. Did he actually want her? Or was Kadaman just assuming? He hadn’t ever indicated interest in her. The game progressed and eventually Itamen started fussing, reaching for his mother. Avad gave her a kiss on the cheek when he got up and handed the boy over. She pulled enough of her top down to be able to breastfeed the little prince, and Ersa looked away.

“How do you feel about the Carja social structure?” was Avad’s next question.

It was an effort to not roll her eyes. “With half the population in charge, how is there justice for the other half? The Oseram do it, too - all the men make laws that benefit them and only them, and women are left with nothing. Sometimes one can claw her way into a position of slight importance, but those women are the extreme exception and nowhere near the rule.”

“Like yourself?”

She didn’t like the gentle tone of Avad’s voice and glared sideways at him. “Yes. Like myself. It helped that my father was a useless drunk. I did what I had to do to make myself a better life. Not that it’s helped much, given my current position.”

Avad shifted, uncomfortable for a moment. Kadaman leaned back in his chair after laying some cards down. “What, no punishment for impertinence?”

“She’s got a point. Besides, I don’t think she’s being impertinent at all. _You_ let servants get away with more.”

“Only when I’m bedding them, and only if they’re exceptional at it.” He raised an eyebrow at his younger brother with a sly smile. “Is _she_ exceptional at it?”

Ersa burst out laughing and everyone looked at her in surprise. She waved her hand in circles in front of her face. “With _this_ face? Hardly. You’d be surprised at how few men want me.”

“I think you look fine,” Avad told her. Kadaman gave him a sharp look. “Besides, personality is much more important than looks.”

“You haven’t seen the _half_ of my personality,” Ersa told him.

Avad’s voice was soft, making her stomach clench and heart flutter. “I’d like to.”

“... Right.” Kadaman’s eyes had narrowed as he looked between the two of them. They weren’t looking at each other, concentrating on their cards instead.

Ersa didn’t look up for the rest of the game. Did Avad fancy her? The thought brought back memories of other men’s hands on her, and she did her best to push them and the thought of him wanting her aside. He’d promised he wouldn’t touch her and thus far had kept that promise. And if he _did,_ he seemed the type to be eager to please his lovers. It might keep her safer, if she could keep the panic at the thought of being touched like that at bay. Once their second game was done, Nasadi pleaded exhaustion and they all walked her to her chambers, both princes kissing her cheek and Ersa bowing low. Kadaman gave them both one last suspicious look before heading to his own chambers, and Ersa cursed her heart for starting to pound again once she and Avad were alone. He simply gave her a short bow and gestured for her to come along, not looking at her and keeping more distance between the two of them than usual. They were walking up the final flight of stairs to his rooms when he finally spoke.

“... My apologies. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” as her automatic reply.

He snorted a little. “Yes, I did. You got tense and stopped talking, stopped looking at us. I didn’t mean to bring back … memories.”

She hated how observant he was. “Boar-faced ass,” she grumbled as she pushed his door open and stalked in. She considered slamming it in his face, but it really _hadn’t_ been his fault.

“And here I thought I had nice hair,” was his light reply.

“Your hair is perfect,” she shot back. “It’s the rest of you that can’t be fixed.”

That got her a laugh. He shrugged, and watched her hesitate after she took up her nightshirt. “I think I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight.” He said it casually. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’d like to sleep in a proper bed for once. I’ll knock in the morning.”

He gave her another short bow before turning and leaving. Ersa pressed her ear to the door once he was gone and heard him give soft orders to his guards, then walk off. She immediately locked the door and then pushed the chaise lounge in front of it. It would wake her up if anyone tried to come in. She tidied up automatically, then changed into the nightshirt and looked around, at a loss for what to do. She wasn’t tired. Sleep would bring terrible dreams. Instead she kept one candle lit and sat at Avad’s desk. She took up a scroll on the art of music and made her way through it slowly. She knew most of the glyphs by now, but had yet to put their sounds to them. Once she was tired of that, she snooped. She rifled through the other papers on his desk, making sure she put them back exactly as she’d found them, but there was nothing useful, nothing to help her escape. The drawers in the desk were locked and she couldn’t find the key. If he had personal weapons, they were nowhere in his rooms. She considered tearing up some of his clothes, angry that he was so kind to her, angry that he wasn’t following the script she was used to, as terrible as it was. Instead, she slammed the doors of his wardrobe a few times. The air that wafted out smelled of cinnamon, crisp yet calming. Ersa hesitated before shoving her head into the clothes that hung there, breathing the scent in deeply. Some of them still had his own scent on them. It was comforting. She hated it, and hated that she hated it.

It was past midnight before she finally crawled into his bed and closed her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear that this story is going to get lighter. I didn't mean for it to get so dark. This ought to be the last angsty chapter for a while.

Ersa had forgotten how wonderful it was to sleep unbound, to be able to wake up after dawn, to wake up alone in the room. It was the warmth of the sun across her face that woke her, and she stretched before sitting up and rubbing her eyes. The chaise lounge hadn’t moved. She expected to have to give the prince his rooms back at any moment. She might have time for a bath first, though. It was a glorious thing, to be able to lounge in the hot water. Avad hadn’t returned by the time she dragged herself out. She frowned and wondered if the idiot had fallen down the stairs because his nose was buried in a scroll - it wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened. He ran into pillars and walls with startling frequency. She finally moved the chaise and opened the door, and Avad looked up from where he sat on the floor, a smile on his lips and a scroll in his lap.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

There were dark circles under his eyes. Ersa frowned. “Did _you_ sleep at _all?”_

He gave a rueful laugh and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I, uhm, I was studying. Time got away from me. I guess I’m used to you reminding me to sleep.”

“Ugh, you’re ---”

Ersa cut herself off, but Avad laughed a little as he raised an arm and his honor guard helped him up. “Useless, I know.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I had Kadaman tell Father that I’m ill.” He looked over her shoulder a little longingly, and Ersa looked back at the bed before stepping back and away from him.

“By all means, Your Radiance, get some sleep.”

He was nodding, eyelids drooping. “Thank you. Please - take the day off.” Then he patted himself down with a frown before pulling out a sheet of parchment and a bag of shards and extending them to her. “Actually, I need everything on this list, if you don’t mind. A guard will accompany you to the market. Anything left over is yours - buy yourself something nice. Oh, get her some sandals, as well. It’s hot out,” but when wasn’t it? “and the streets will burn her feet otherwise.”

He was out of his mind with exhaustion. That was the only explanation. Why in the world would he offer her money and tell her to treat herself, otherwise? Ersa wasn’t going to try to talk him out of it, though. She nodded and murmured a thanks before turning around and hurrying down the hallway. One of the guards followed her. She ignored him unless he gave her directions out of the palace, and once in the city, she paused to look around. Everyone but obvious slaves was Carja, and even some slaves were. Most of the slaves were Oseram, though, and everyone watched her curiously. It was rare to see a palace slave out and about - especially one in the crisp, pale blue uniform that marked them a slave of the royal family. Ersa would have preferred something that let her blend in more, to avoid the notice of the Mad Sun-King, but as slaves were prone to trying to run away, something had to differentiate them from the regular servants. She hadn’t seen him do it, but the guard had procured a pair of thin sandals and offered them to her. It had been a long time since she’d worn footgear. The soles were thin enough that she could still feel the heat of the cobblestones, but thick enough to keep it from hurting. She’d get farther in them than bare feet, but they’d wear out quickly in the jungles surrounding the mesa.

Ersa looked at the list and pursed her lips. A labelled map would have been nice. “Where first?”

“This way.” The guard gestured and she walked beside him, refusing to walk behind him like a slave. He didn’t seem to notice. He was well-struck, as all the guards were, and probably in his thirties. His armor was especially shiny.

After a while, Ersa’s curiosity overcame her. “So … does he _always_ send slaves shopping for him?” The list seemed ridiculously simple, small things that he could have gotten from the palace stores rather than the city’s marketplace.

The guard stopped at a stall and gestured for her to take what she needed. “Sometimes.”

She examined the fruit critically. “You’re usually around him.”

“I am part of His Radiance’s honor guard.”

“Which means …? I’m not from around here.”

That may have gotten a slight laugh. “His honor guard is loyal to Prince Avad. We’re hand-picked to serve and guard him.”

“Sounds fancy.” She may not have been able to completely make out the glyphs, but at least she recognized the numbers and everything was clearly priced. She picked out the best fruits and handed over the shards, and a little more. “Prince Avad says hi.”

The merchant stared after them as she turned and walked off, and the guard’s voice was amused. “That was good of you.”

“I hate your stupid people, but that doesn’t mean that you haven’t suffered under your stupid king as well.”

“Watch your tongue.” He said it, though, in the same tone that Avad used - a dry, half-hearted attempt at a scolding.

She watched small children drop their street games and run in fear as they approached. Palace guards usually meant sacrifices were to be taken, from what she’d heard from the other servants and slaves. One little girl had dropped her doll and by the time she’d picked it up, Ersa and the guard were in front of her. She froze, terror on her young face. Ersa sighed and knelt, handing her an orange and some shards. “Here,” she said softly. “Prince Avad wants you to have this. Share with the others, alright?”

The child hesitated, looking from Ersa, to the guard, to her friends, before taking the orange and shards and running off. Ersa stayed where she was for a moment before heaving a sigh and moving on. The Carja people weren’t her enemies. They just wanted to live their lives in peace - stuck-up, superiority-complex, prissy peace to be sure, but peace nonetheless. The Mad Sun-King and his murderous followers were to blame for her situation, for the terror that had swept her land and their own. It should have been obvious that human sacrifices weren’t stopping the Derangement - if anything, they were making it worse.

By the time she had everything that Avad wanted, the sun was high in the sky and she still had more shards than she knew what to do with, even after deliberately overpaying for everything and dropping a few in front of the beggars they came across. The guard hadn’t said a thing about it. Apparently he was taking Avad seriously - the extra shards were hers, to do with as she please. She slipped a small handful into her pocket, and still he said nothing. If she could get the prince to keep giving her these errands, keep letting her keep shards, if she could find a way to hide them, then she may be able to save enough to bribe her way to freedom. There was always _someone_ who could be bought. She just needed to find them, and have enough shards.

There was a merchant selling meat and chilled fruit juice on their way back to the palace. Ersa had a few shards left. She hesitated. She was thirsty, and hungry. She hadn’t eaten all day. There was a woman in rags across from the stand, her cheeks hollow with hunger and her eyes downcast, a baby in her arms. Ersa let out a soft sigh and bought a hunk of seasoned boar meat and mug of juice, then knelt in front of the woman and gave her both the food and the last of the shards. The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, fear, and maybe thankfulness.

“From Prince Avad,” Ersa told her. The woman was speechless, either from shock or fear or possibly both, and Ersa patted the baby’s head gently before standing and turning back to the palace. “Can we stop by the kitchens?”

“His Radiance gave you the day off. You can go wherever you please within the city, so long as we’re back by nightfall.”

‘Within the city’ being key, of course. Ersa stopped to listen to a street musician. “What’s your name?” she asked the guard.

“Toran.”

“How long have you served the prince?” She would want to dance to the music, if she had been in the city of her own free will.

“Five years.”

“What’s it like, guarding him?”

“Boring as hell.”

Ersa looked at him with a startled laugh. He was smiling behind his helmet. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that he doesn’t do much of anything. He reads and studies music. Prince Kadaman at least goes hunting. But I’ve had worse assignments - His Radiance gives us plenty of time to be with our families. When my wife went into labor, he was upset that I hadn’t told him immediately, and personally escorted me home to be with her. I don’t know what he told the Sun-King, but I didn’t have to go back to the palace for six months, and my pay was doubled during that time. His Radiance is an exceptionally kind man. We all serve him with pride.”

“Not _all_ of us,” Ersa murmured. Toran didn’t say anything. She turned away from the music and wandered until her stomach grumbled. She didn’t want to go back to the palace for food, but she also didn’t want to dig into her stash of shards. She could go a few days without food - it wasn’t an emergency.

She was surprised when Toran stopped her to buy food for both of them. “Prince Avad gave _me_ money, too. He always does. He said to make sure that you ate.” They sat at some tables in the shade and ate slowly.

“How old is your child?” Ersa finally asked.

“She’s four,” was his answer.

“Is she your only?”

He nodded. “We wanted more, but … it isn’t … the right time.”

It wasn’t safe, was what he meant. “You had only served him for a year before he let you take half of one off?”

“He insisted. All of us in his honor guard serve him with pride.”

“He _does_ seem to have a way of inspiring loyalty,” she murmured.

“The princes are good men.”

“That keep slaves.”

He tilted his head. “Yet you told everyone that the money and food was from Prince Avad. Would you have given him credit for your own actions if you didn’t think he was honorable?”

Ersa propped her chin in her hand and watched the busy marketplace, took in the sights and smells. “... no. But don’t tell him I said so.” Then she got up and Toran followed suit. She roamed the city, familiarizing herself with its layout, marking places that would be easy to escape from. She might have to scale the mesa, if it came to it. She could possibly hide in a cart, or on top one of the great lifts. But should she go around the lake at Bright Market, or try to cross it? The sun was setting, a cool breeze drifting over her, when Toran gently touched her elbow and gestured to the palace.

They were almost to Avad’s rooms when Kadaman stepped around a corner and held his hand up. “You, woman.”

He knew her name. He knew Avad insisted he use it. It was a show of dominance. She knelt and lowered her head. “Your Radiance.”

“Leave us.” She almost looked up, but then Toran acknowledged the order and the clink of his armor said he was walking away. “Get up.” Ersa stood and settled her gaze on his chest. His expression was stern, but he didn’t seem angry. Not furious, at least. “I heard about Avad’s new orders to the guards.” She was silent. “Is he covering up for you?”

“Neither of us want the slaves to be harmed.”

“That’s not what I asked you, woman,” he snapped. Ersa’s jaw tightened. “Did you presume to give guards orders that you made up? Did you lie _about a member of the royal family_ just to save your own ass?”

“No,” Ersa snapped back, “I lied in order to save three women who didn’t deserve what the guards had in mind for them. I would do it again, too.”

He drew his head back a little, surprised. “Excuse me, but I swear I just heard you backtalk me. A prince. Surely I was mistaken - because I know you’re not stupid enough to jump into a conversation you weren’t invited into, then lie to the guards, and then treat me with such disrespect.” Ersa was silent. “Well? What have you to say for yourself?”

“I hate you.” She wasn’t fast enough to avoid the backhanded slap he gave her, and as she reeled from it, Kadaman grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, and as soon as she was pressed against his mostly-bare chest with his other hand on her throat, the memories hit her and Ersa lost it. “No!” She screamed it, bringing her knee up into his groin, then her elbow down on his back as hard as she could when he yelled and doubled over in pain. He went down and she kicked him in the stomach, then face, then turned and fled. She needed to hide. She needed a way out. He was going to find her. He was going to hurt her. She’d misjudged him. Worse things than death awaited her when he finally found her. He’d have his guards hold her down, he’d hurt her, she’d be beaten and worse, everyone had lied about the princes and their kindness.

She flew past Avad’s guards and into his rooms, looking around for somewhere to hide and her breaths came too fast and too shallow. She could hear Kadaman yelling. Finally she grabbed the letter opener from Avad’s desk and yanked his wardrobe open as he sat up in his bed with a start. She closed the doors and huddled at the bottom of it, shaking and panting and praying they didn’t find her, and if they did, that she could kill them and run.

_“Where did she go?”_ She didn’t hear the reply from the guards, hiding her face in her drawn-up knees and fighting back whimpers.

“What the hell’s going on?” Avad asked, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Where’d that sow go?”

Kadaman was stomping around the room and Ersa bit her lip to keep from screaming.

“What?”

Avad sounded confused, and Kadaman snarled. He was close to the wardrobe. “Your sow of a slave. Where is she?”

“I … the market, I suppose. I gave her the day off. What happened to your face?”

_“She_ happened. _Where is she?”_ The wardrobe doors didn’t fly open like she’d expected. Instead, Kadaman tipped the whole damn thing over and she shrieked. “Hah!”

“Hey! I don’t know _what_ happened,” Avad yelled over the racket, “but you need to _stop._ Kadaman!” The heir apparent had pushed the wardrobe off of her and grabbed her foot as she tried to scramble backward, clutching the letter opener tightly in her fist. _“Don’t touch her!”_

He’d grabbed his brother’s arm and Kadaman swung at him, but at least he’d let Ersa go and turned his back. She made to lunge at him, but Avad saw and ducked down and then spun, coming up between the two of them and holding his hands up, palms out. “Ersa! Ersa, _stop!”_

“Stay away from me,” she panted. She was shaking so badly that she was afraid she’d drop her weapon. “Stay away from me. I’d rather die.”

“No one’s going to hurt you, Ersa,” Avad told her soothingly.

“Says _you,”_ Kadaman snarled. “That sow attacked me.”

“He touched me,” Ersa whispered. “He grabbed me. He touched me.” Avad, at last, understood. His lips thinned and he backed up, reaching behind him to push at Kadaman until they were a safe distance away from her. She backed into a corner and had to use both hands to keep the letter opener even slightly steady. She might be able to make it to the balcony and jump.

“Did you touch her?” was his quiet question.

“Of course. She was a mouthy sow, so I backhanded her.”

“Did you grab her?”

“To give her the beating she deserves, yes.”

Avad closed his eyes as he clenched his fists. “Kadaman, you’re a damn fool. I need to talk with you. _Now,”_ he snapped when his older brother protested. He pointed to the balcony and Kadaman followed, glaring at Ersa. She crawled under the bed, where they’d have a harder time getting to her, and curled up as she waited to find out how badly she’d be tortured for attacking the crown prince. She flinched when they started yelling and hated herself for her weakness. She lost track of time until they came back in. She was mostly calm at that point, her breathing even and quiet. She watched Kadaman’s boots stomp off and out of the room, then Avad’s bare feet came into view as he crouched in front of the bed.

“It’s ok,” he murmured. “You’re safe. You’re not in trouble. You can come out, now.” She tensed and didn’t move. Avad didn’t move, either. “You’re not - well, you have to sleep with the others for a month, and you don’t get any more treats from Mimaw for a while, but that’s it.” He paused. Ersa said nothing. “I’m sorry. I told him … I explained things.” Ersa’s gut clenched. She didn’t want anyone to know. “He understands now. I promise, he understands now. If anyone asks, I got a few lucky hits in while we were training. He won’t touch you again, Ersa.”

Finally, “... he grabbed me.”

“I know,” was the equally-quiet response. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I didn’t … I didn’t think this would happen, so I didn’t tell him that you … have issues with men touching you. I’m sorry. This is my fault.” He sighed after a while. “I’ll have a female servant come to escort you downstairs.”

He stood and left, and it was only after Marda had entered the room, alone, that Ersa managed to pull herself together enough to crawl out from under the bed. Marda didn’t ask for an explanation and Ersa didn’t give her one, just held her head up and prayed the guards saw her tenseness as pride, rather than the fear it really was. Avad was nowhere to be seen. In fact, other than the two guards at his door, no one was around except for the occasional female servant. She wondered if Avad had done that.

Her uniform was taken from her the next day, replaced with the far less fancy uniform the other slaves wore. She’d been demoted, but refused to tell anyone why. For the next three weeks, she was given tasks around the palace, ones that kept her in the company of other female slaves, ones that didn’t require her to interact with men. She saw Toran once, and he focused his gaze above her head before kneeling to roll an orange her direction. She’d shared it with Marda. She didn’t see any of the royal family.

It was the beginning of her fourth week of exile, as she was hauling a bucket of dung to the royal gardens to fertilize them, that she came across Kadaman. He was alone, back to her, holding a rose close and smelling it. Her heart stopped and she couldn’t control the shaking. He didn’t seem to have noticed her and she should have run away before he did, but she couldn’t move.

He finally turned his head slightly and spoke. “Please, sit down. I have some questions for you.”

She forced her legs to work and sat on the edge of the stone bench he’d gestured to, across the clearing from him. He took his time admiring the flowers, then crouched down to tug at a few weeds.

“Avad told me.” She was quiet. He hadn’t asked a question. “If I had known, Ersa, I wouldn’t have touched you. I’m not mad at you.” He paused. “Anymore. Bruised ego, maybe.” She still didn’t speak, and he sighed. “When did it start?” He looked over his shoulder when she didn’t - couldn’t - reply, then stood. “Please come with me.”

He was being as gentle as his younger brother, all of his blustering arrogance gone. He waited until Ersa was able to stand, then walked ahead of her. She followed without a word. The smell of cooking food eventually drifted to her and her stomach grumbled. Kadaman may have laughed a little, but it held no cruelty. He held the kitchen door open and bowed her in, and once inside, Avad stood up with his face twisted with worry.

“Ersa. Are you alright?” He met her gaze for a second before dropping his own. “I’ve been worried about you.”

Kadaman had followed her in and moved to the back of the kitchen, leaning against the counter there, and Avad joined him as Mimaw bustled over and started muttering about how skinny she’d gotten, bringing her a plate of food, then another, then another, filling several glasses with both wine and spiced apple cider.

“Eat, child,” she was ordered. The last plate was stacked high with the pastries that Ersa loved. Then the ancient woman stood between her and the princes, glaring at the two as Ersa started eating as fast as she could. “These two blithering idiots are the bane of my existence.” After Ersa had pushed the last plate away, full to bursting, Mimaw sat beside her and pat her hand. “They have questions for you, child. Difficult ones. But you need to answer them honestly. Can you do that, or do you need more time?”

Time. They’d been giving her time. Ersa’s gut clenched but she nodded. “I’ll try,” she said. It was quiet, but at least her voice didn’t shake.

There was silence, then Kadaman sighed when it seemed that Avad wasn’t going to start. “When did it start?”

Ersa closed her eyes and had to open them again. She gripped Mimaw’s hand. “The night we were captured.”

“When did it end? _Has_ it ended?”

“The night before you two came to the slave quarters with food.” It had been an excellent last meal, for some of them. She saw them look at each other out of the corner of her eye.

Avad’s voice was shaking a little. “And … how many?”

“Of us, or them?”

“... Them.”

“Seven or eight. I don’t remember exactly.”

“How ---” He cleared his throat. “Would you remember what they looked like, if you saw them?”

She nodded.

“Would any of the others?”

“Most of them are dead. The ones that are left, probably not. But I was … favored.”

“Favored?”

She didn’t look at Kadaman. “Some of them were barely women. I … kept the soldiers occupied. Away from them.”

“You volunteered … By the Sun …” Kadaman’s voice was a harsh whisper. “I’m so sorry,” he finally said. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. No wonder you beat the crap out of me. Avad …”

“Right. We’re done. Thank you, Ersa. We’ll take care of this.”

“You’re relieved of your current duties and back in Avad’s care,” Kadaman added. Ersa flicked her gaze up at him. He was still bruised, and his pensive frowned cleared into a pleasantly neutral expression when he saw her watching. “There’s a servant outside to take you back upstairs - unless you’d prefer to stay with the others.”

She shook her head and stood. Mimaw had wrapped the leftovers up and handed them to her. “May I go, my lords?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Avad assured her. “By all means.”

“Thank you.” She turned and walked out, nodding to the woman who was waiting for her. She was a proper servant, much older than Ersa herself. Her nose wrinkled like Ersa smelled like shit - which she did, because she’d been hauling shit before finding Kadaman, who, it was now clear, had been waiting for her. Toran was at Avad’s door again, and his lips curled just slightly as she walked up. He kept them trained straight ahead, though. Ersa went straight for the bath. She refilled it three times before she was sure that she was clean, and spent the fourth time floating on her back. Unlike the bathing room at Sunfall, this one was at least two men wide and long - plenty long enough for a full-grown man to stretch out in, much less her. The water was warm, comforting. She floated until she heard Avad come in and shuffle around. She had duties to attend to. Moping about things she couldn’t change wasn’t going to do her any good. She got out of the bath and dressed, then padded to the door and opened it.

Avad was sitting at his desk, scribbling something. He turned when he heard her, then stood up so fast he knocked his chair over. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to be done so soon. I’ll be on my way.” He didn’t look right at her, but his face was open and earnest.

Ersa sighed. “I’m not going to break. If they couldn’t do it, you can’t do it.”

He sounded hurt. “I’m not trying to. I just … I don’t know what to do. What do you need me to do?”

“Letting me go home would be a start, but barring that, treat me like usual.” Because if he kept being this kind and concerned, she _would_ fall apart. “Just … be your normal, boar-faced ass self.”

Avad finally started to smile, and looked down at his chair. “I could trip over my own feet, if you’d like.”

“As if you need my encouragement for that. Is that a new bruise?”

It was right in the middle of his forehead. He sighed. “I had an … incident. With a wall.”

Ersa covered her face with one hand as she laughed. Avad joined her. It had been a long time since she’d actually laughed. “You’re … you’re an idiot.”

“Well, I didn’t have anyone there to save me from myself.”

She finally moved into the room and started to pick a few things up. “You could always stop reading while you walk.”

“But that’s time I could spend reading.”

He kept a decent amount of distance between them. Ersa shrugged. “When you break your neck, don’t come crying to me.”

Avad snorted. “Mimaw said the same thing.”

“That’s because Mimaw is smarter than you are.”

He laughed again as he picked his chair up and then sat in it. “This is true. So … I can go back to work, then?”

Ersa nodded. “Sure. What are you writing? If it’s sonnets, I’m telling on you.”

“No. We’re having troop inspections for the next few weeks. These are the orders for it.” He seemed extraordinarily pleased about it, far more than Ersa was sure it warranted. “Would you mind reading to me while I work?” He held out a book of poetry and Ersa took it. Their fingers brushed and his eyebrows went up, but he didn’t say anything. Ersa hopped a little to sit on the desk itself and opened the book.

“Alright. First one: The Carja are snotty, the Carja are stuck-up, the Carja think they’re better, but they’re really just butts.” Avad started to laugh to himself as he bent his head to write. Ersa smiled at the back of it as she started on the actual poems.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like smut because here we go.

Avad was sitting on the window seat with one leg drawn up and his arms around it, leaning his head back against the wall as he gazed out over the mesa. The Jewel was lush and green, vibrant with life, and the cool breeze coming in ruffled his bangs. He let out a long, deep sigh.

“Oh, no.”

He barely heard his brother as a smile drifted over his lips.

“I know that sigh.”

His mind was full of dark hair, dark eyes, and a sharp tongue.

“You did it again, didn’t you?”

Sheets smelling of sweat and sometimes, if he was lucky, _her_ after she’d slept in his bed.

“You’re in love.”

Reading in the bed before the sheets were changed, just to be near her scent.

“You fell in love again, don’t lie.”

The brush of her fingers against his as she passed him a scroll or a book, no longer flinching.

“You’re going to start writing sonnets.”

A gentle smile when she thought he couldn’t see, warming his body and soul.

“Well, tell me who she is. Let’s get this over with.”

Lips that were always slightly chapped, which kisses surely wouldn’t fix, but he’d like to try anyway.

“Avad.”

The most delightfully creative insults, when no one had ever dared insult him before.

_“Avad!”_

More strength of character and personality than he could ever hope to aspire to.

“Oh, good afternoon, Ersa.”

“Ersa?!” Avad’s head whipped around and he stood so quickly that he tripped and fell on his face, letting out a garbled cry of pain as Kadaman burst into laughter. He scrambled up and tried to smooth his hair and loose, white linen leisure outfit as he looked around. Ersa was nowhere to be found, but his older brother was doubled over as he howled. He glared at him and threw his shoe, which bounced off of Kadaman’s handsome head and made him laugh harder. “That wasn’t funny.”

“That,” Kadaman managed to gasp, “was _hilarious._ Oh, you’re a damn fool. Does she know? Have you told her? Shall she be Queen, one day?” He ducked Avad’s other shoe, the grin on his square face nearly breaking it.

“Shut up. I’m not in love.” He just admired her. He respected her. He found her to be lovely, as any man would.

“You’re thinking of her, and I know this because you have that foolish grin on your face. No wonder you don’t ever dice - you have a terrible liar’s face.” He brush his hand through his close-cropped hair and raised his baritone voice to mimic his brother. “Oh, Ersa, I think you’re wonderful. You’re strong and put up with me and could kill me with your bare hands and I like that sort of woman because I’m weak and I need a woman’s protection. Will you marry me? We can run off the the Savage East and live like wild boars. Do you want to hear the sonnet I composed in your honor? Would you like to be on top in bed? I like that, and I think you really ought to punch my pretty face some more.”

Avad picked up a small ornamental sun, carved out of rock, and threw it. Kadaman caught it easily. “Stop that! I don’t sound like that, and I don’t like being punched!” Then he raised his chin and sniffed. “And what I like in bed is none of your business.”

Kadaman just laughed and lowered his voice as far as it would go. “Oh, Avad, you shitfaced boar, you’re an idiot but I’ll only marry you if _you_ wear the dresses and have the children and tend to the home. I’ll do the manly duties of felling trees with my bare hands and fighting machines to keep your delicate yet fine ass safe. I’ll make up better insults because I know that turns you on, you … Scrapper’s ass.”

That made Avad laugh even as he looked for something other than a book to throw. His personal library didn’t have much else in it, so instead, he walked over and kicked Kadaman. The other man jumped up, towering over Avad, and Avad started to backpedal in a hurry as he realized his mistake.

“Hah! A duel! I accept!”

He’d retreated to his library in order to recover from Kadaman’s early-morning beating. He hadn’t meant to incite another. Instead of facing his hulking brother square-on, he did what any self-respecting second-born, less-powerful son would do:

He turned and ran.

 _“Get back here, you damn coward!”_ Kadaman bellowed after him. They raced through the halls of the palace, Avad swearing every time a servant or noble got in his way and slowed him down, and Kadaman barreling through them without a thought as he laughed. _“Get back here and take what you deserve!”_

He lunged at Avad just as he got to the doors to the palace gardens, throwing them both into a tumble as Avad let out a very unprincely shriek. They rolled on the ground, grappling with each other, before Kadaman sat on top of him and held one of his hands out to the side while hitting his face with the other.

“Stop hitting yourself, Avad! Stop hitting yourself!”

It was useless to try to struggle but he did it anyway. “Get off of me, you ass!” He didn’t know how he managed to unbalance his brother, but Kadaman fell sideways and Avad scrambled up. He made it about six feet before his brother was on him again, grabbing him in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles against his skull as he spun them both around. “I’m going to kill you in your sleep!”

Kadaman’s eyes flew open and he covered his mouth in mock outrage. “Ersa! Did you hear that?!”

“You’re not tricking me again!” Avad snapped as he shoved sideways into Kadaman and threw him off-balance again. He managed to get his hands around his brother’s throat, but Kadaman had done the same, and laughed at him.

“Ersa, I’ll give you fifty shards if you dump water on this shitfaced boar.”

There was a soft sound that made Avad look up. Ersa was indeed standing there in her pale blue uniform, watching them with a carefully blank face, a bucket of water in one hand. “One hundred to dump it on _him,”_ he choked out. Neither of their grips were very good, but they were both starting to turn red.

Ersa raised an eyebrow and looked back at Kadaman. “A hundred fifty!”

She looked at Avad again and started to raise the bucket. “No!” he begged. “Two hundred! Please!”

“Three hundred!”

She shrugged, reached behind her, and as Kadaman hooted his victory she pulled forward a _second_ bucket and then both princes hollered in alarm and tried to roll away but damn if Oseram women couldn’t handle two full buckets at once. The cold water soaked both of them, leaving them sputtering, the linen that had been clinging to their bodies from sweat now clinging even more from the water, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. They sat up and wiped their faces off as they gasped. It had clearly just come from one of the deeper wells, cold as ice. Ersa crouched by them and held both hands out. They looked at her with wide eyes. She wiggled her fingers.

“Pay up,” she told them. She’d been gardening - Avad could smell the dirt and flowers on her.

“What?”

“Pay up, _your Radiances,”_ she corrected herself with another finger wiggle. “I believe you owe me a total of five hundred shards.”

Kadaman sputtered a little. “But … but you dumped water on me!”

“And me!” Avad protested.

Ersa just blinked at them. “I was given orders by you, the princes.” She said it slowly, as if to particularly dense children. “I can’t disobey the princes. I followed the orders I was given. Now you owe me money.” They hesitated. “If you don’t pay me what you promised, I’m telling Mimaw.” Kadaman flopped back with a groan as Avad stood. In the sunlight, there was even less to imagine. “You shouldn’t wear that outside.”

He gave her a wide-eyed look. “What?”

She pointed. “I can see everything.” She honestly could, and didn’t hide the fact that she was looking. Kadaman started laughing again as Avad garbled out something and clenched his legs together, covered his groin, and turned away. “Huh. I always thought royalty was supposed to be …”

“Well-endowed?” Kadaman finished when she trailed off. “Yeah, Avad got the short end of the stick in that department.”

“It gets bigger, you know,” the prince mumbled as he looked around for something to cover himself with. That made Ersa start laughing, too. “Are you two done yet?”

“Are you going to pay me?”

“Nice ass, though.”

“Eh, I’ve seen better,” she said as Avad put one hand over his rear and turned so his side faced them, glaring. “He’s got no muscle to him. Couldn’t handle a forge if he tried.” It was all lean muscle, actually. Ersa looked away as another servant came over to take her buckets.

“Oh, now he’s going to cry.” Kadaman had a barely-functional sense of modesty, and so didn’t care if his admittedly well-struck - as Ersa would say - body was on display as he stood up. He stretched, then winked at a passing servant. The man looked him over and gave him an approving thumbs-up. Then Kadaman and Avad both held their hands out to Ersa. Sometimes she took them, sometimes she didn’t. It had been over three months since the two had brought her to see the troop inspections, then asked her to identify the soldiers. Three months since they’d brought her to Sunstone Rock - a lovely excursion out of the palace, one that she had clearly enjoyed - and shown her into the cell where the men were bound, handed her a sword, and stood on either side of her and watched as she’d gutted them. She seemed to be doing much better since then, and Avad had to grudgingly admit that, sometimes, murder was therapeutic.

Her hands were warm when they took them. She probably should have considered that they were right by a fountain, though. Avad was sure she _did_ consider it as they swung her up off her feet with a shriek and right into it. Yes, _then_ she considered it. She came up spluttering and ready for a fight. “Augh! By the Forge! I’m going to --- you! And then I’m going to --- you! And after that, I’ll --- your faces! And then I’m going to --- your --- right in the ---!”

The two brothers held each other and laughed as she cut off her threats with glottal stops - after all, if she didn’t actually make them, she couldn’t get in trouble for them. Then Kadaman held both hands out and gestured with his fingers for her to come at him. “Well, come on then, woman, let’s see you _try_ to --- my ---.”

“You forgot ‘right in the ---,’” Avad reminded him with a grin.

Kadaman nodded, his face serious as Ersa climbed out of the fountain. The water must have felt good in the heat of the sun. At least _her_ outfit covered everything. “Right, thank you. Let’s see you _try_ to --- my --- right in the ---.”

“My bet’s on Ersa.” He examined his nails as Kadaman gave him a dirty look and he and Ersa circled each other, sometimes lightly jabbing out to test the other’s defenses. The two of them liked to spar. Avad liked to stay out of it.

“Don’t you have a younger brother?”

“At one point. Maybe not anymore.”

Kadaman ignored the implication that Jiran’s soldiers might have killed him. “Is he as much of an ass as Avad is?”

“Mm, he’s a bit of a drunk. Needs lots of supervision. It’s like taking care of a gigantic baby.”

“By the Sun, do I know that feeling. Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

This time it was Avad not considering that they might gang up on him and yelling as they grabbed his arms and yanked him into the fountain. They held his head under, let him come up for a moment, then dunked him again. Ersa’s laughter rang out clear and easy, and Avad thought he’d let her do this all the time if she kept laughing like that. At least, until he got water in his lungs and started coughing. They let him up and he laughed and coughed, sliding one arm over Kadaman’s shoulders and using it as an excuse to put the other one over Ersa’s. She would probably start to tense up after a while, but for now, he revelled in the feeling of her strong back under his arm, his relaxed hand’s natural curl cupping her shoulder.

“You’re both terrible people,” he finally rasped. “I’m not dancing with either of you at Midsummer.”

“Midsummer?”

He nodded and didn’t squeeze her shoulder. “Yes. The Midsummer Festival. Have you never - no, of course you’ve never been.”

“My idiot brother,” Kadaman muttered.

Avad was looking at Ersa, but not directly. It seemed to keep her at ease for longer. The sun was hot enough that he was drying out quickly, and thank goodness for _that._ He didn’t need to be walking around with everything on show. “It’s a free day for everyone. There’s music, and dancing, and food, and the market is open all day and night. There are fireworks.”

“And Father will be attending some duties at Sunfall.” Kadaman sounded pleased.

“Minor duties,” Avad said quickly when Ersa started to tense and her smile faded. He moved both his arms and clasped his hands in his lap. “Meetings and such. We have to stay here for the royal presence. Would you like to go?”

“To the Festival, he means,” Kadaman said when Ersa gave Avad a horrified look. “Ooh, the prince escorting a servant to the Festival. What a scandal. Sounds fun.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Avad promised. He’d completely meant it like that. “You’re not obligated to go. You can stay inside if you like.”

“Shut up while you’re ahead,” Kadaman murmured.

Her leg and arm were pressing against his. Avad swallowed. “There’s dancing,” he repeated.

Kadaman rubbed his face. “You great blithering idiot.”

Ersa shrugged. “If you’d like me to go. But I don’t know how you Carja dance. I probably couldn’t get a stick that far up my ass.”

Avad’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as Kadaman howled and slapped his back. “Plenty of olive oil. I’m sure Avad has extra.” Someone started playing a sitar and drums before Avad could make a retort. Kadaman nodded with pleasure as Avad looked around him at the two musicians that had set up their instruments in the shade of an overhang. “Ah, here they are.” He stood and held his hand out for Ersa. “Come, we’ll teach you to dance.” He was moving his shoulders to the beat of the drums and whining twang of the sitar as he wiggled his fingers. “Come. Unless you would rather Avad teach you?”

Avad slid to the right a bit and turned to Ersa with an easy smile. “Well? You have two princes at your service.”

“And that doesn’t happen often,” Kadaman added. He’d been a lot more gentle with all the servants, recently. Avad couldn’t remember when he’d last bedded one - not that he kept track.

Ersa just shook her head with a smile as she stood up. “I can’t choose.” She covered her eyes and held her arm out, pointing, before spinning around. When she came to a stop, she was pointing at Kadaman. “Alright, you. Your Radiance.” Avad leaned forward with his hands clasped loosely between his knees as she took his brother’s hand and Kadaman slowly rested his other hand on her hip.

“The basic steps are simple,” he told her with a grin as he held her close, but gently.

Avad knew that Kadaman was more handsome than he himself, but he hadn’t considered that _Ersa_ might find him handsome until they were watching each other as the music slowed in order for her to get used to both the beat and the steps. They were talking quietly, sometimes laughing. Ersa’s eyes crinkled with her smiles in a way that they rarely did, a way that Avad had been slowly trying to bring about more of, to be the cause of. That Kadaman had her smiling so genuinely so quickly made his heart clench and his gut twist. It made him feel sick, an aching sort of sickness. He wanted to jump up and pull them apart, then punch Kadaman for touching her. It wouldn’t have done any good - Ersa was her own woman, and if she decided that she fancied Kadaman, then he had no say in what they chose to do. Kadaman was the heir, too - it would be more prudent to be _his_ lover than Avad’s. Second sons were really just backup heirs, anyway, and never held any real power.

He barely heard the music pick up, faster and more upbeat. He should probably just give Ersa to Kadaman. Then he bit his lip. No, that wouldn’t work, unless she volunteered. He didn’t know what would be worse - having to watch Ersa leave at night and come back in the morning while he spent the days with her, or only seeing her when he was in Kadaman’s company.

“Whoops!”

Avad was turning his attention to Kadaman when Ersa fell into his lap, laughing. It tipped them both into the fountain again, and he swallowed some water and started choking, both of them scrambling to get up. His hands landed on her breasts and he jerked them away and then her knee landed in his groin and he doubled over in pain, which pushed his face into her breasts instead, and she reeled back and ended up straddling his stomach as he was bent almost double in the water, the stone of the fountain itself digging into his back and hers pressed against his legs, his hands gripping the edge of the first tier of the fountain above him like his life depended on it. Ersa’s brown eyes were wide with surprise and her lips were partially open as she panted and her hands were digging into his shoulders and Avad wanted to see her like this naked and in a much more comfortable spot, like his bed.

“... sorry,” he squeaked out as Kadaman laughed. This was a bad position to be in with the thoughts it put in his head. But honestly, it would probably put her more at ease if she were on top and in control. He was ok with Ersa being in control with him.

“I’ve been on top of worse people,” she quipped before standing up and stepping out of the fountain. Avad’s jaw dropped as he stared after her.

“Oh, get up, you idiot,” Kadaman told him. He grabbed Avad’s arm and hauled him out, then pushed him at Ersa. “You’re a better dancer than I am. _You_ teach her.”

“May I at least dry off?” he asked. “I’m soaking wet. Again.”

“I’ve seen worse.” He stared at Ersa. She shrugged. “I mean, I’ve also seen better. But I’ve seen worse.”

She was trying to get under his skin. It was working, but maybe not in the way she’d intended. She held her hand out, looking as bored as could be, and he pursed his lips as he took it. He made to lead but then she did, and there was a moment of confusion while Kadaman kept laughing at them.

“I --- you need to let me lead,” he told her.

“I’m _trying,”_ she shot back. “Your brother had no issue with this.”

“That’s because Avad doesn’t know how to handle women,” Kadaman chortled. “He just lets them walk all over him. Come on, brother, you have to manhandle her.” He paused. “Gently.”

She nodded in agreement and he gripped her a little harder, concerned about her comfort. “I’m used to partners who already know how to dance.” That got him a grin and Avad didn’t know how Kadaman could think she was plain-faced.

“Well, then, lead away, your Shininess.”

“Oh, I _like_ that one,” Kadaman put in, but he was ignored as Avad spun Ersa around the courtyard.

“Are you alright?” he murmured a few minutes later. She’d been swallowing more sharply, and her breath was a little shallow. “We can stop. You’ve picked it up well.”

She blinked a few times before nodding. “That … that would be fine, thank you.” Avad stepped back and bowed over her hand with a grin.

“Of course. Thank you for the lovely dance, my lady.” She ducked her head and might have been blushing when the clank of armor interrupted them.

 _“Your Radiance,_ what are you _doing?”_ Avad stood up straight as a rod with a tight jaw and wide eyes, still holding Ersa’s hand, and he and Kadaman moved in front of her. “She is a _slave,_ my prince.”

“Helis,” he said curtly as the mountain of a man stormed toward them with a snarl, shaking with rage.

 _“Stand down,”_ Kadaman ordered.

Helis pulled up short with a growl and moved his glare to Ersa. Avad’s heart was pounding and he hoped it didn’t show. If Helis told Jiran, Jiran might have Ersa killed. “My lords, that woman is a _slave,_ and you’re _dancing_ with her?”

“As if we could get anyone _else_ to dance with Avad,” Kadaman laughed. Helis wasn’t amused. “Leave it,” he ordered. “Avad fancies her - let him treat her as he pleases. She’s trained and valuable,” as if she were a pet, “and is intelligent to boot.”

“An intelligent slave is a dangerous slave, your Radiance.” Ersa wasn’t shaking, but she was gripping Avad’s hand tightly and had moved behind him and as out of sight as possible. Helis was clenching and unclenching his fists rhythmically.

“I believe my brother gave you an order,” Avad said with all the authority he could muster. It probably wasn’t much - Helis terrified him.

“Avad will screw whoever he wants, and if dancing with her makes her willing, so be it.” _That_ made Ersa flinch. “You don’t have to worry about bastards, and we know she isn’t diseased. He ties her to the bed nightly ---”

“Are you sure _he_ isn’t the one being tied down?” Helis asked snidely.

Avad bristled but Kadaman took one step forward to backhand the man as hard as possible. Helis’ head snapped to the side and he grunted. “If you show such impertinence again,” Kadaman growled, “I _will_ have you punished. _You_ may be Father’s right-hand man, but _we_ are his heirs. _Am I clear?”_

Except for Kadaman’s looks, neither he nor Avad took after their father at all. Helis hated it. He hated that Kadaman only fought when he had to, and he especially hated that Avad was slight of build and absolutely abhorred violence. He knew they detested the Red Raids and sacrifices, detested the ‘holy mission’ their father and his true believers were on. They were disappointments all around, and probably the reason that Jiran had taken Nasadi as queen and produced Itamen - he, at least, might be the worthy heir that Jiran and Helis wanted. Kadaman stared Helis down until the man dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

“I beg your forgiveness, your Radiances,” he said through a clenched jaw. “It won’t happen again, I swear it.”

“Good,” Kadaman said flatly. “And if anything … unfortunate … should befall the woman, we’ll look at _you_ first.”

“Yes, your Radiance.”

“Get out.” Helis stood, clasped his fist over his heart with a nod, then spun on his heel and stalked off. Kadaman held his hand up until he was sure the man was gone, then turned to Avad and Ersa with closed eyes and took several deep breaths before he spoke. It was a whisper, but didn’t shake with the rage he obviously felt. “Avad, take Ersa to your rooms. Do not _ever_ interact with her like this where anyone could see you. Treat her like the slave she is, not like she’s your friend and equal. Ersa,” and he opened his eyes, “be as humble and obedient as you can. This should never have happened. Helis will be watching you two. You have my deepest apologies for this - we got carried away. Can you keep that damn Oseram mouth closed? Because we will _have_ to discipline you now if you can’t, up to and including beatings - and none of us want that to happen.”

Helis clearly wanted her dead. He led the Red Raids - Jiran would probably have named _him_ heir, if he’d been able. Avad nodded. “Yes, my lord.” It was an automatic response to the authority in Kadaman’s voice. He let Ersa’s hand go and stepped away from her. “Ersa?”

She was looking down and nodded slowly.

“Good. Go now, and don’t leave your rooms if you don’t have to. I will explain things to Father if he asks, and Ersa, I apologize for implying that Avad is bedding you. He will continue to _not_ do so.”

“I don’t need reminding,” Avad muttered.

“What will happen if your father decides to punish me?”

“He’ll delegate the form to Helis. You may be starved or beaten, but he won’t let his men touch you otherwise, and he won’t touch you either.” Kadaman snorted. “He may be a monster, but he’s not _that_ much of a monster.” He dug into a pocket and handed a bag of shards to Avad. “Go, now.”

Avad hated it, but he dropped his hand and snapped his fingers as he turned and walked away. Ersa followed him without a word. He was tense all the long walk back to his rooms, but Toran and Meln fell into step behind and in front of them, and their presence went a long way to ease his nerves. Helis might have tried to intimidate Avad by himself, but certainly not with more witnesses. Truth be told, Helis intimidated Avad whether he was trying to or not. Years of the man trying to train him to be as bloodthirsty as he was had left their mark. He let Toran check his rooms and then gesture for them to enter, and as soon as the door closed he turned to Ersa and hit his knees, holding his hands up to her. She was shaking a little, but with fear or anger, he didn’t know.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’m so sorry - please forgive me. I didn’t think Helis would be there. I didn’t think at all. I was having the most fun I’ve had in a long time and I forgot our places. You couldn’t very well tell the crown princes you didn’t want to dance. I’m so sorry, Ersa.”

She leaned her head back with a long sigh and rubbed her face with both hands. “Didn’t I tell you once that if you kept apologizing, I’d hit you again?” He didn’t laugh. She looked down at him with exhausted eyes. “It’s not - I wanted to,” she told him. “I wanted to dance with you two. You didn’t coerce me into anything. I forgot our places, as well. I don’t remember the last time I actually had fun. Thank you for that.” He stayed on his knees, hardly able to breathe through the pain in his chest. He could have lost her. He could _still_ lose her. Then she blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. “Oh, get up, already. I forgive you, you idiot. I’m sorry - _your Radiant Idiotness.”_

That finally brought a smile to Avad’s lips. He stood and brushed his knees off. It took a few breaths to be able to speak. “Thank you. I - may I do anything for you? I can leave tonight, I can get you whatever dinner you’d like, I can ---”

She raised one finger and pressed it against his lips and he froze, eyes wide, heart skipping several beats and then pounding to make up for it. “Let me touch your hair.”

She said it softly and he blinked. “What?” he whispered against her finger. The feeling of her skin against his lips made him dizzy.

“Let me touch your hair. I’ve never touched it, and it looks soft.”

The corners of his lips twitched up and they may have trembled a bit. If she noticed, she didn’t let on. He obediently lowered his head. She wasted no time burying her hands in his thick, wavy black locks, fingers combing through and dragging along his scalp, tugging gently as they drew back. He bit his lip and held his breath to keep from making a soft, pleased whine.

“Ohhh,” she breathed. “It _is_ soft. How do you do it?”

He liked scalp massages and having his hair tugged, in several situations. He cleared his throat. “Regular washing. Oils.” It was getting to be too much and he reached up and took her gently by the wrists, lowering her hands with a smile he prayed held none of the desire he was feeling. “That’s … that’s good. Thank you. That … that was nice. Ah …” He cleared his throat and stepped back at the same time he turned. “I, ah, need to bathe. Do as you please. Also,” and he was sure she heard the amusement in his voice, “I know that you would never hoard shards for various nefarious uses, but if you were to do so, I might have moved them to the bottom of that stack of pots for better hiding. And these are for you.”

There was a slight intake of breath as he tossed Kadaman’s bag on shards on the bed on the way to the bathing room. He sat naked at the edge of the bath as it filled and gripped his erection just shy of too hard as he bit back gasps and moans. He wanted her to pull his hair as she kissed him, wanted to nibble on her ear as she left bruises on his neck, wanted to kiss her breasts as she held his head to them. He lay back and couldn’t help a groan at the thought of her riding him. He desperately wanted to watch the way her breasts would move with her movements, wanted her to gasp his name as her hips moved over his, wanted to feel her body tightening around him. He wanted her to lay over him when her pleasure was too much and wanted her lips on his as it overtook her, wanted to hold her tightly and be held in return when his own pleasure came. He didn’t know if she would cry from the pleasure after, but if she did, he wanted to wipe her eyes and kiss the tears away. He wanted to hold her as she drifted off to sleep with his head on her shoulders. He wanted to wake to those beautiful brown eyes and wanted to smooth her sex-messy hair, wanted to kiss her softly as the day dawned. He wanted her to have him again, and felt that sex in the morning would hold a different kind of passion than it would at night, one that was more leisurely, perhaps on their sides as they just watched each other with their foreheads touching, whispering words of admiration and affection.

Avad gasped loudly as his pleasure overcame him and he spilled his seed over his hand and stomach. Then he _did_ grip himself too hard, and winced as he let himself go and lay, panting, on the floor while staring at the mosaic ceiling. It was all reds and golds, geometric shapes in patterns he’d traced over often. He should take a lover; one he could bed more frequently than Lady Talanih, one who would sate or at least dampen his desires. He had no business wanting Ersa - strong, capable, intelligent, funny, beautiful Ersa - as much as he did, or at all. Even if she were a freewoman, they couldn’t be together. He wasn’t the heir apparent, but he would still be required to marry and produce sons for political purposes, and he didn’t think that Ersa was the type of woman to accept being a mistress.

He slid into his bath with a sigh both relieved and frustrated, sinking until only from his nose up was above the water. He blew forlorn bubbles for a while before scrubbing himself clean and then some - he had the ridiculous fear that Ersa would see or smell the evidence of what he’d done and know he’d been thinking of her. He’d managed to not gasp her name, at least. He grabbed for clean clothes but they weren’t there. He cursed softly and knocked lightly on the door to his room.

“Ersa?” There was no answer. He cracked the door open and she was sprawled out on her back on the bed, fast asleep. She’d clearly sat down and then fallen back. He took a moment to admire her before slipping into the room, naked as the day he’d been born, and rummaging quickly in his wardrobe for something to wear. He’d pulled on a pair of loose pants and was heading to the chaise she’d wheedled out of someone when she spoke.

“You can sleep here.” He jumped and whipped around. She knew. She knew what he’d done and knew it had been due to her and she was going to stop trusting him and he’d have to hand her over to Kadaman and she was looking at him with sleep-heavy eyes that still narrowed as she frowned. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. His voice squeaked a little. He tried again. “Nothing. I mean, I took a bath. I forgot clean clothes. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You look awfully guilty for not having done anything,” she mumbled as she rolled over. “Help me up.” Avad wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly, but she flung her arm out in what was probably a beckoning gesture. “C’mere.” When he’d obeyed, she held her arm up. “Help.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure ‘m sure.” She was still mostly asleep. Avad leaned over and took her elbow as gently as he could before pulling her upright. She swayed a bit and then rested her forehead against his hip and raised her arms a bit. “Help.”

He took deep breaths and held her shoulders as he knelt. “I think you should rest,” he said. She started to shake her head and put her forehead in the crook of his neck. Avad let out a soft breath as his stomach did flips. “You’re exhausted.”

“‘M filthy.”

“You can bathe later.”

“M’kay.” Then she held her arms up again. “Skin th’ bunny.”

Avad laughed a little. “What?”

“Skin th’ bunny,” she repeated. “Take it off. Don’ wanna sleep dirty. Dirty clothes. No.”

“Ah …” But she kept insisting, so he took her uniform jacket off. She insisted on more. He helped her out of her shirt and was glad that she was tired enough that she didn’t notice his shaking hands. He’d gotten her to the linen that bound her breasts and covered her other private parts before she decided that that was good enough and insisted he half-carry, half-pull her to the left side of the bed. His fingers twitched into her skin and he felt rough scars on her back. It took effort to let her go when he finally lay her down. Instead he covered her up to her chin and pressed a faint kiss to the air over her forehead before hurrying to the chaise and laying there. He didn’t know how much time had passed before she woke up, but it had been dark for a long time. He kept his eyes closed as she muttered to herself and got up - something about being filthy. He listened to her bathe, then listened as she hid the shards from Kadaman, if he was correctly identifying the faint metal clinking that started. She was probably going to try to use them to bribe her way to freedom. He was probably going to gently nudge her in the right direction. He wasn’t expecting it when she padded over and poked him in the shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Mm?” He shifted and hoped she’d believe he’d been asleep.

“Get up. Come here.” Avad opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows at her. She was in her nightshirt. The only light came from behind her and illuminated the silhouette of her body through the thin fabric. He closed his eyes again. “Come on. Sleep on the right side of the bed.”

That had his eyes opening in surprised. “What?”

“By the Forge, you’re asking that a lot today. I’ll sleep on the left side, and you can sleep on the right. It’s fine. I don’t mind.” She pulled at his arm and he mutely let her lead him to the bed and tuck him in. She patted his head and scratched his scalp for a moment. He sighed with pleasure and closed his eyes. He’d forgotten how comfortable his own bed was. “This is for letting me touch your hair.”

He was already falling asleep, but smiled a little. “You can do it whenever you want, then.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” was the last thing he remembered hearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> avad's totes not in love y'all  
> *  
> *  
> *  
> *  
> Hey, so, not only do I work really hard to write engaging, entertaining stories, but I do it for free. I don't plan on changing that, however, if you like my work and would like to pitch in to help me pay the bills, you can always toss me some change via [PayPal](https://www.paypal.me/LarissaFae) and I would be so incredibly overjoyed.
> 
> Thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kadaman finds a drinking buddy.

There were whispered rumors about the palace. People - slaves, servants, and others - clearly thought that Avad was bedding her, and watched her every time she came down from, or went up to, his rooms. She wanted to be furious, but that rumor, along with her being his personal servant, gave her some clout with even the guards. Although she hadn’t made up an order from him again, she _had_ found that she had some wiggle room in letting others _assume_ that she was pulling someone off of a particular duty by his order, which let her very carefully rearrange the slaves and some of the servants so that their duties were as easy as possible. She could put up with a few rumors if it let Marda rest her aching feet by sitting and peeling potatoes, if Gend didn’t have to be bent over with his bad back all day weeding. She didn’t know if Avad was in on it, but Kadaman certainly was. He would very occasionally stick his head into the servants’ quarters or kitchens or wherever she happened to be, look around thoughtfully, then give her a pleased nod and a smile, and sometimes a thanks. Avad still gave her a shopping list once a week or so, and she still both gave away and kept as many shards as possible. Toran still escorted her - probably because any other guard may well let it slip that she always kept some shards. It had gotten to the point where the vendors she frequented recognized her and saved her their best products. The woman across from the meat and juice vendor was filling out nicely - her cheeks were less hollow, her clothing still ragged but mended, her baby growing well. She was singing a little as Ersa and Toran bought their lunch, and Ersa set a few shards down in the bowl in front of her. A street musician leaned against the wall next to her and strummed his hand lyre - Avad, Ersa thought, was better at it. She put a little money in front of him, as well, then she and Toran sat back in the shade and watched as a few more people put a few more shards down, following the example of the palace slave. She smiled.

“I hope you will enjoy Midsummer,” Toran said out of nowhere.

Ersa blinked. “What?”

“Midsummer. I hope you enjoy it. It looks like it will an especially good one, this year.”

Meaning that everyone would be relieved that Jiran would be away from Meridian. Ersa nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ll wear my finest silks and meet my true love there, surely.”

He laughed. “My wife and daughter will be there. You’ll know them because his Radiance won’t let anyone else hold Manha. He adores children.” Then he snorted a little. “Which is why you need to sleep in the servants’ quarters tonight.”

Ersa swallowed some juice. “That makes no sense.”

“The Lady Talanih is visiting.” Ersa blinked. “He has you stay ---”

“Oh, his lover,” Ersa said when it clicked. “I never learned her name.”

“Not to be confused with the Lady Talanah Khane Padish,” he went on. “She isn’t _nearly_ as … ambitious … as the Lady Talanih.”

“Are you _gossiping?”_ Ersa laughed.

Toran shook his head. “No. I am making sure that you’re aware of the difference between the two, because there has been confusion before. Technically, I’m under orders from Lady Talanih to make sure that you are … well aware … of their activities, however, despite his Radiance not telling me not to let you hear them, I have been his guard long enough to know that he would be absolutely mortified if you walked in on them.” He pursed his lips a little. “Then again, he _might_ stop bedding her if that happened.”

“Why not go after Prince Kadaman, if she’s so ambitious?”

Now he was _definitely_ gossiping. “Because her family isn’t noble enough for Prince Kadaman to consider marrying her, but they _are_ noble enough for King Jiran to order Prince Avad to. She does what she can to influence him thusly, and she is, I hear - figuratively and literally - very good at it.”

“And does the prince know …?” He couldn’t be _that_ naive.

“Oh, yes. Prince Avad is well aware of what she wants.”

“But he’s not interested.”

“Not one bit.”

“Is he not inclined toward women?”

Toran shook his head. “That is neither my place to say, nor yours to ask.”

Ersa shrugged. “You have a point.” She was going to ask Avad herself. If anything, she would have the pleasure of embarrassing him. “Would you like me to walk in on them, or would you rather spare his dignity?”

“Spare him. He and I both know that he doesn’t want something like that to happen. As obnoxious as her Ladyship is, I will put up with her until his Radiance gets tired of her efforts. He is … far more patient a man than most.”

Ersa snorted. “Even royal men can only think with one head at a time. Pigs, the lot of you.”

That made the guardsman laugh. “Well, you aren’t _entirely_ wrong … But I think that Prince Avad is more level-headed in that area than you might think. He may love children, but he is _very_ studious about making sure that the tea Lady Talanih drinks after is from Mimaw, and not from her.”

“Just let me be grumpy.”

“As you wish.” Then Toran turned his head and let out a disgusted groan under his breath. “Dretal.”

Ersa glanced around without moving her head. “Who?”

“Palace servant. Well, a former palace servant. He knows all the ins and outs of the lower levels of the palace - the entire mesa, actually, down to the river. He’s a shard-hungry pile of dung.” Then he stood as Ersa’s mind kicked into gear. “No matter. We can at least let the Lady Talanih see you seeing her go into the prince’s rooms. Come along.”

“I get the feeling that she’s jealous of me.”

“Was it the glares?”

“And the obvious kickeys.” Ersa hadn’t been able to identify the man. It might have been a trap, if she thought that Avad was cruel - or intelligent - enough to see if she would try to run away. That sort of subterfuge didn’t seem his style. Kadaman’s, maybe, if only for the thrill of hunting her down and dragging her back to the palace over his shoulder. But that still seemed cruel even for him, and she was sure that she knew Toran well enough by now to know that he wouldn’t have brought the man up if he hadn’t known exactly what she would think.

“Her Ladyship is projecting. _She_ will sleep with anyone to gain status, so she probably assumes _everyone_ will, and you _are_ in his Radiance’s company quite a bit.” He hummed a bit. “I wonder if she knows that he lets you sleep in his bed …”

Ersa had to grin at that. “She hasn’t pushed me down the stairs yet, so I believe it’s a safe bet that she doesn’t. Does she not know that he doesn’t bed underlings?”

“I doubt she believes it. The prince is fine with letting everyone think he does, if only to give a servant the night off. It’s not as if he sleeps in his own bed much, anyway.”

“He should start reading in bed - that might help.”

“What, and have him never leave it? He would get scrawnier than he already is, and Prince Kadaman would have an even easier target.” He wasn’t all _that_ scrawny, Ersa thought to herself - it just seemed that way by comparison to almost everyone else around him. He got good exercise, mostly due to running away from his older brother all the time, and had some nice muscle definition. She could probably still wipe the floor with him, though.

Which she very nearly did, as he ran right into her as they got out of the lift onto the floor his room was on. Ersa ducked as he yelled and then flipped him over her shoulder, slamming him to the floor as Kadaman skidded to a halt in front of them, laughing, and Toran grabbed her arm to keep her from punching the younger prince. Avad scrambled up and turned Ersa around, holding her out to Kadaman with both hands on her shoulder blades.

Kadaman scoffed. “Hiding behind a woman. I see. You’re a damn coward, Avad.”

“Yes,” he panted. “Yes, I am.”

“You think _she_ could take me on?”

“Better than I could. She’s Oseram. She can fell a fifty-foot tree with her bare hands and carry it ten miles - everyone knows Oseram women can do that by the time they’re twelve. Ersa, help. That’s a royal command.”

He was an idiot who believed everything he read. Ersa sighed and raised her hands to wave Kadaman off. “Go on, get. Shoo. Shoo.” He laughed at her as she looked over her shoulder. “It’s not working.”

“Try harder.” Avad had nearly caught his breath.

“Bah, you bore me. Come along, woman. I’m going to pick you up.” He and Avad always told her when they were going to touch her, but Kadaman never really _asked_ permission like Avad did. He knelt just enough to lift her by her knees. “Get along to Lady Talanih. You don’t even like her that much.” He grinned up at Ersa. “Do you know why he beds her if he doesn’t like her?”

“Kadaman, shut your mouth.”

“That’s not my place to ask, your Radiance.”

“Kadaman!”

The older prince laughed. “It’s because she’s willing and he’s horny.” Avad garbled something, but by the look on his face, that was exactly why, and he had no other excuse to make. Kadaman started walking off and Ersa handed the bag of goods from the marketplace to Toran. “Well, ride her like you stole her, brother, and you can have Ersa back in the morning. I want to know what makes her such a good servant.”

“My stunning good looks,” she replied dryly. She was set down as Kadaman laughed, one hand gently pressed against her elbow to lead her in the right direction. Her heart started to beat faster as they walked. She knew that Avad wasn’t going to hurt her, and Kadaman had appeared to stop bedding slaves and servants and now was almost always gentle around her, but she also knew his past reputation and knew that he often got bored of not getting to do as he pleased. She was sure that Avad had at least slightly pressured him to leave the women alone.

“So, what does my idiot brother have you do all day long?” he asked. “He doesn’t bed you, probably doesn’t have you help him bathe or dress … Does he just talk music and poetry at you?”

“And history, my lord. He is very well-read.”

“Reading is a bore. I don’t know how he stands it. I know you can handle yourself in a fight - does he train with you?”

“No, my lord. Sometimes we play cards.”

That got his interest. “Oh? Do you bet?”

Ersa snorted. “I would be Sun-Queen in a night if we did.”

Kadaman laughed as they got to his rooms. “Well, in you go. I’m not going to touch you - Avad would kill me if I did. I’m fairly certain all his bookishness has included how to poison someone.”

“If it has, he certainly hasn’t shared that knowledge with _me.”_ Ersa looked around. Kadaman’s rooms were similar, if larger and messier, than Avad’s. She started cleaning up after the prince, making his bed, straightening his armor and weapons, dusting off the bookshelf that he clearly never used, tossing his used laundry down the laundry chute and folding and hanging the clean clothes. Kadaman had his feet propped on his desk and his hands clasped behind his head as he watched her. Finally she stood before him, hands held loosely behind her back.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?”

“Well, he likes to ask asinine questions about the Claim and the Oseram that are easily disproven by common sense.” That made Kadaman laugh. “And he sometimes has me read to him.”

“Did he teach you to read, or did you already know how?”

The answer would be beaten out of Avad if she lied. She was tempted. “He taught me, just so I could read to him.”

“Do you fancy him?”

Ersa frowned. “... No. Why would I? You both may treat me and the other slaves well, but we _are_ still slaves, and your father and army _are_ butchering my people. How many raids have _you_ participated in, my lord?”

His amusement had disappeared. Ersa wondered if he would beat her. “More than I would _like_ to have participated in. Father is set in his ways, and won’t be reasoned with. It was obvious early on that sacrifices weren’t appeasing the Sun-God - they were making things worse, if anything.”

She wanted to demand to know how many raids he’d been, how much he’d believed that the murder of innocent people would work, but he wasn’t nearly as tolerant of her temper as his brother was. Instead she pursed her lips and kept her eyes on his left shoulder. “Is your brother inclined toward men?”

That made the older prince blink. He tilted his head slightly. “... Come again?”

“Prince Avad. Is he inclined toward men? He clearly isn’t that interested in the Lady Talanih, but as even a minor prince, he _will_ likely need to make at least a political marriage.”

Kadaman was laughing, now, and gestured her to him. “Come here, Ersa. Closer,” he said when she stepped forward. He was still laughing, shaking his head. “Are you _always_ this impertinent? Closer.”

She had to lean down, face close to his. He was handsome in a Carja sort of way, square-jawed and burly, skin darker than Avad’s, eyes that same amber-brown, hair an absurdly fair blond that was cropped close to his skull and in a straight line across the top of his forehead. “Most of the time,” she murmured.

The corners of his eyes crinkled and he raised one hand, very lightly tapping her cheek. “Well, consider this your punishment.” Ersa blinked. He waved her back. “Avad is not so inclined toward men as he is toward women, to answer your entirely inappropriate question, though he does on occasion take male lovers. Do the Oseram have a problem with that sort of thing?”

Ersa snorted. “Hardly. I was just wondering why he would bed her without having any real interest in her.”

Kadaman laughed again. “As I said, she’s willing and he’s horny. He’s always refused to bed servants, no matter how interested in them he is, and he feels that regularly taking a local noblewoman as a lover would present too much of an image of courtship. My brother,” he went on as Ersa poured him some wine, “is an idiot.” He took a sip. “And you have my permission to tell him so.”

“I will keep that in mind, my lord.” If she was just obeying Kadaman’s orders, Avad couldn’t punish her. Not that he ever punished her, even when she’d deliberately tripped him and he’d known it. Not that he needed her help in tripping over his own two feet, but a couple of well-timed nudges as they walked and he’d run into anything as he read.

It was a few hours later when Kadaman threw his hands up. “Having a personal servant is boring.”

Ersa snorted. “I never said I have an _exciting_ job, my lord. Should I read to you?”

He laughed at her. “The implication of your tone is that I am incapable of reading.”

“I never said that, my lord.”

“Of course not.” He stood up and stretched, popping his back. “Well, come on, then.” He went to his wardrobe and opened it, rubbing his chin as he looked in. “Let’s see …” He selected a few garments in shades of dark grey, then tossed them onto the bed. “Well, get dressed.” Ersa blinked at him. He flashed her a charming grin. “Go on, change. We’re sneaking out.”

He was as exasperating as his brother, in his own way. “Are you _trying_ to get me killed?”

“Of course not. I sneak out all the time. Avad never goes with me - he just wants to read. Hurry up, woman.” Then he sighed and turned his back. “Better?”

Her lips pursed as Ersa started to change. “If I die, Avad will kill you.”

“Avad, you say?”

His voice held nothing but amusement. _“Prince_ Avad. My apologies.”

“You won’t die, for the love of the Sun.”

“Are you still bedding servants?”

He let out a sigh that might have been irritated. _“No.”_ Then he paused. “Well.” Ersa groaned. “They were twins, and they accosted me. Twins, Ersa. _Twins._ How was I supposed to turn them down? _Twins.”_

She considered pushing him down the stairs. She knew exactly who he was talking about. “I’m ready.” He was cackling to himself as he started to change. Ersa turned her back and stepped far enough away that she would hear him approach and have enough time to react. He shuffled around a bit, then she felt the cool night air as he opened his balcony doors.

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“No.”

“Good. Then come here.” She obeyed and he gestured for her to climb onto his back, having secured a rope to the balustrade. Then she looked down at the tiny pinpricks of light from the city far below them as he sat on the stone and changed her mind.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Too late!” He was cheerful as he swung them over the railing and started the long trek down the side of the tower, Ersa clinging to him as hard as she could and burying her face in his back. Her breath was fast and she was trembling, trying not to whimper every time he dropped a bit too quickly. “By the Sun, woman, be quiet. You’ll get us caught.” Ersa just bit her lip and shook her head. They were going to fall and they were going to die. She was going to die, and it was stupid Kadaman’s stupid fault for stealing her for the night and stupid Avad’s stupid fault because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and she hated them both. She was almost crying by the time that Kadaman set them both on the ground and got her off of him, turning her so that he could hold her gently, stroking her hair as she buried her face in his chest and quivered. “Hey. Ersa.” He tilted her chin up and she was trying to blink back tears. He looked legitimately concerned. “I … I apologize. I hadn’t realized you were actually afraid of heights.”

“I hadn’t, either,” she choked out.

“Well, we will return through the servants’ entrance, then.” He was taller than her and strong, stronger and thicker than Avad, and it was a comfort to hold him until she could gather herself. Then she pushed out of his embrace and glared at him.

“I hate you all.”

“Yes, I see that,” was his dry reply. He gestured with his head. “Come on.”

“What are we doing?”

“Subterfuge and skullduggery, of course. What _else_ would the crown prince and heir apparent be doing sneaking out of the palace so late at night for?”

“If _you_ die tonight, so help me …”

He grinned again and held his finger to his lips. “That’s why I have a strong Oseram woman to protect me,” he whispered. He flipped a hood up to hide his easily-recognizable features, and led her out of the alley and down a few more, past late-night drunks and sketchy characters.

“What, no knife to protect you with?”

“I am not the idiot that my brother is.” He had to duck to get into a bar, then reached back and pulled her with him. It was loud, dark, and smokey. The music was rougher, less refined than what usually floated around the palace. She followed him in silence as he procured two steins of beer from the barkeep, then found them a seat - a single seat. Ersa glared at him as he pat his knee. “Oh, come on. Have a beer with me.”

“It’s not the beer that I have an issue with,” she muttered. Still, it had been a long time since she’d had a beer - even one that was as undoubtedly as crappy as Craja beer must be - and she wanted to sit. So she settled herself on the edge of his knee and reached for the second stein, only to be pulled back against him with a soft laugh. “Hey!”

“Are you asking for a fight?” He just sounded amused, and drank with one hand while the other was planted on his hip. “Just drink, woman - this isn’t a proposition. I would have to put up with Avad sulking if it was.”

The beer was as terrible as she’d thought it would be. She drank it thirstily. “Well, if you don’t want him to sulk, keep not bedding servants or slaves.”

“That is not why he would sulk.”

She looked back at him. “So why would he sulk?”

Kadaman just looked at her, then heaved a sigh. “You’re both idiots, I see.”

“He doesn’t bed slaves or servants,” she told him flatly.

His eyes never left hers as he took another drink. “That hardly means he doesn’t fancy any.”

Ersa turned back to her beer. “I hate you all.” But the damage was done, and they both knew it. He kept buying beers and they kept drinking, Kadaman eventually starting to sing along with whatever lewd song was going around at the time. If he was right - and he would know better than anyone - and Avad fancied her, it would be easier to manipulate him into helping her escape. If she rolled him well enough, could mask the panic and fear at even the thought of _his_ gentle hands on her well enough, convince him she cared for - even loved him - then she could conceivably at least persuade him to not pay too much attention to her whereabouts at all times, look the other way when she made her escape, or even help her. She would practice, then, slowly imagining him looking at her like that, touching her like that, being inside of her. He might let her be on top - that would make it easier.

That was assuming, of course, that his principles - the same ones that had slowly gained her trust over the past months, enough that she could handle him sleeping on the other side of the bed with her without panic, handle him touching her for extended periods of time, handle small yet sudden movements without her heart stopping - weren’t as strong as they appeared to be. And if she could manipulate the sweet and gentle prince in the first place without crushing guilt. If she could get back to the Claim, she may be able to raise an army - or enough of one to make Jiran think twice about his precious raids. Avad’s easily-bruised feelings might get hurt, but it would save _so many_ lives. It wasn’t as if his pampered hands weren’t dirty in this war. He sat by and let his father slide deeper and deeper into madness. He buried his face in a book or instrument to avoid the confrontation that could save thousands upon thousands of lives. As much as he might care for an individual Oseram, he didn’t care enough to try to stop the butcher of her people.

“Ah, your Radiance. Slumming again?” The voice was deep, and Ersa looked up to a short, slender man with guarded pale eyes and a slight and mocking smile.

Kadaman just shrugged. “You know I like it, Dretal.” Ersa looked him over carefully, memorizing his features.

“Is this the slave I’ve heard so much about? She is hardly as fetching as the talk makes her seem.”

“Alright, look,” Ersa told them as she held a finger up. “Amongst the Oseram? People with _actual_ good taste? I am at _least_ a nine out of ten. Show some respect to my beauty.”

“Eh, she’s too bulky. Too broad.”

Not that it wasn’t nice to finally be amongst people she wasn’t dainty when compared to, like in the Claim. Here, she was considered muscular and even on the tall side - in the Claim, she tended to be dwarfed by her fellow Oseram. Still, loyalty to one’s people, and all. “And I have been able to fell sixty-foot trees and carry them twelve miles since I was eight. Fight me. You _will_ regret it.”

That had Kadaman laughing as he stood and dumped her on her feet. He handed Dretal some shards. “Of course we were never here.”

The man looked Ersa over again and his smile was just shy of slimy. “Of course, your Radiance. My silence is bought for enough shards.”

“I know. Come, Ersa.”

Neither of them looked back. Kadaman led them easily through the city - Ersa only slightly swaying from the alcohol - and true to his word, through the servant’s entrance. Once at his rooms again, he took his time in locking up anything she could use as a weapon, and had her change in the bathing room. He was already in his bed when she came out. His back was to her, and there was a small cot for her to sleep on. Ersa lay on it and stared at the ceiling, wondering if she could really successfully seduce Avad, wondering if it had really been a coincidence to run into Dretal.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Avad tries not to be friends and fails at it. Hard.
> 
> Also, love poetry!

Ersa was gone again. Kadaman had kicked his door in - the masons and woodworkers had just left after cleaning up the mess and putting in a new door - picked her up as she read to him, thrown her over his shoulder, and left without a word. It was the second night that week, had been going on for almost a month, and Avad was starting to get irritated. They had agreed on one set day each week, not two days whenever Kadaman felt like it. Ersa was _his_ servant right now, not _Kadaman’s._ If his brother had wanted her, then _he_ should have claimed her, not gifted her to Avad. All of Kadaman’s blustering around, demanding she sneak out to go drinking and whoring with him, was disrupting Avad’s very precise schedule. Was it a very active one? No. But it was _his_ schedule, and he _did not like people interrupting it._ Now he couldn’t read, couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t do _anything he wanted to be doing,_ because his idiot brother had taken his servant - and who knew what they were getting up to? Ersa’s shards were still in the stack of pottery, so she hadn’t left yet. Had she found a lover? Avad was entirely unused to the sick, burning pit of disgust and anger that rose in his stomach at the thought. It would be just like Kadaman to help her meet a lover - it meant that _he_ got to go out, too, and he knew that it would drive Avad crazy to know that she had someone on the side.

There was the shifting of armor and murmur of voices outside his door. Avad was out of his seat, across the room, and opening the door before he realized what he was doing, but it wasn’t Ersa’s perpetually-sullen brown eyes looking up at him from a pale face, it was Lady Talanih, all tan skin and light green eyes and revealing silks just this side of indecent, and Avad strongly considered slamming the door in her conniving face. Not that he blamed her for her ambitions - women had precious little worth in society apart from the males their wombs could bear, and while he was no Kadaman, marrying him _would_ give her the second-highest status a woman could get in the Sundom. She blinked a little and stepped back as a look of cautious concern slid over her pleasant smile.

“My lord? Are you … well?”

Avad had to think for a moment before he realized he must be scowling. He cleared his expression with a shake of his head and then smiled. “A bit of a headache is all, my lady. But please, come in.” He took her by the elbow and pulled her firmly into his room - he had no intention of giving her what she wanted, but he was more than happy to take what she offered. He was pushing her up against the door as soon as it was closed and pulling at her silk gown as he kissed her. She made a small noise of what might have been protest at his less-than-gentle treatment, and he pulled back to whisper in her ear, “Is this not what you came here for, my lady?”

He pulled one of her legs over his hip and pressed against her. The noise she made in response was one of pleasure. “You are just … very forward, tonight … Your Radiance.” He bit the soft skin of her neck and she cried out and held his head to her while raising her other leg around his hip. “This is hardly like you.”

He wasn’t nearly as strong as Kadaman, but neither was Avad as weak as his brother and Ersa teased him about being. It was easy for him to carry Talanih over to his bed. He lay her down on Ersa’s side of the bed in a fit of extreme pettiness before sliding his hand between her legs to see if she was wet enough. She arched her hips up into his fingers with a soft cry and Avad blew a raspberry onto her breast in irritation. He had absolutely no aversion to - and took every delight in - giving his partners oral pleasure, but he had hoped she would be prepared enough to render that unnecessary. She seemed to enjoy his aggressiveness, though, which meant it wasn’t long until he was inside of her and she was crying out and dragging her nails down his back. He kept his face in the crook of her neck until he was shuddering with release, then lay there for a few moments before pushing himself off of her and up, taking out the tea he kept on hand for her visits. The first time he’d called a servant to get some, she had been sent back with the whole kit, and Avad had been thankful for Mimaw yet again.

“My lord …”

She hadn’t finished. Avad didn’t care. He filled the kettle from the bronze water pitcher by his desk, put the tea in, then hung it over the burner and lit it. “Do as you like.” And she did, clearly trying to entice him back to her with her sighs and moans, but he watched the tea until it was boiling, then poured it into a bronze cup and brought it to her. “Here. Then wash up.” She was too startled by his behavior to really protest. He watched her drink the tea, then stood back to let her up. After she was clean and reasonably decent again, he took her by the elbow and led her to the door, kissing the back of her hand. “Thank you for your time. Goodnight.” He didn’t shove her out the door, but he _did_ very _firmly_ make sure she left his room and then shut the door before she could protest. She might have growled faintly in frustration. Avad went to his wash basin to clean himself off, put the tea and kettle away, then stared at Ersa’s side of the bed. It wasn’t even _her_ side of the bed. She shouldn’t even be staying in his room. Of course everyone thought he was bedding her. He sighed and rang for a servant. He was reading a treatise on the economics of war when the woman arrived, and he just pointed. “The bedding needs changed.”

“Yes, Your Radiance.”

He read until Kadaman brought Ersa back, Ersa obviously swaying with alcohol and limping. “Are you alright?”

“She’s a mean fighter,” Kadaman declared. “I like it. Bulky women are hardly my type, but this one could be an exception.” Ersa raised her chin and preened a bit at that. It didn’t get the reaction from Avad that Kadaman wanted. His eyes narrowed. “So, into the bed with you, woman.”

“No.” Kadaman and Ersa both looked at him in surprise. Avad held his breath for a moment. “Ersa needs to start staying with the other servants. This is not a punishment,” he said when Kadaman started to say something. “You have done nothing wrong. You will be here shortly before dawn salutations and leave shortly after dusk salutations. I will ring if I need anything at night.”

“Well, she can’t go down there drunk. Sleep well, whoever you are that took my soft-hearted brother.”

Kadaman left and Ersa stood there, blinking at him. Avad didn’t look up. “You are dismissed.”

“I am drunk.”

“Noted. You are also dismissed.” Then he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go sit outside and sober up, then go downstairs.”

“... Why are you being mean?”

“I am _not_ being mean, I am following the proper social customs for once.”

“... Are you upset that Kadaman takes me out?”

 _“Prince_ Kadaman is the heir apparent. He will do as he pleases, with his servants and my own. Just go outside, Ersa.” It was ridiculous to think that she was his friend. She was a slave who was saving up money to run away. All she wanted to do was go home and raise an army to fight against his people - not that he blamed her, but the war between their tribes was hardly fertile ground for friendships to grow in.

She grumbled as she went, and it wasn’t until the candles on his desk were burning low that she finally came back in. “Got tired of the rumors, did you, Your Radiance?”

“I am tired of a great many things. Just go down with the others. You staying in here does nothing but put a target on your back for my father and Helis to aim at.”

“And you just now figured this out?” She sounded irritated. Avad didn’t turn to look at her. “I suppose I should be thankful for the past few months of special treatment, but I’m not. Goodnight, _Your Radiance.”_

“I do not appreciate your sarcasm.”

She turned, halfway to the door. “What are you going to do about it? Don't act like I should be _grateful_ for anything you've done for me.”

He turned and she was glaring at him. He raised a finger for each point he made. “I took you in when Kadaman gave you to me, rather than leaving you to go with the rest of the slaves. I let you stay in here when you should have slept with the others from the start. I let you sleep _in my bed and unbound._ I allow you to mouth off at me to your heart's content. I let you make up orders from me. I let you kill those soldiers. I taught you to read. I let you hoard shards.”

Ersa snorted. “I would have been fine without all that. I won't be grateful to a man who owns me.”

“I made sure you met Dretal.” Her eyes widened in shock and she took a step back. “Or did you really think that Toran bringing him up and Kadaman taking you out were coincidences? How _are_ those plans going, by the way? I would like to know when I can expect to lose you.”

“Toran has a big mouth and your brother likes to drink in the slums,” she snapped, but the Oseram were a fundamentally honest people and they both knew that that was the best deflection she could come up with. “And if you send me downstairs, I swear by the Forge that I’m waking you up by dumping water on you. Latrine water.”

That made Avad laugh as he shook his head. “Just go, Ersa, please. I will … feed you grapes tomorrow, if you do. I have precious few friends and I dislike the thought of losing any of them.”

That had Ersa’s gaze softening. She tilted her head a bit and took a couple of steps forward. “Am I your friend, then?” was her almost gentle question.

He just spread his hands with a shrug. “What can I say? Between you and Kadaman, it’s clear that I have terrible taste in friends.”

“Yeah, _really_ terrible taste.” She took a few more steps until she was standing in front of him, and reached out to run her fingers through his hair. He sighed and lowered his head, eyes closing. “Will you be alright without me?” Whether she meant for the night or after she went home, Avad didn’t know. He just shrugged. “Well … it’s for the best, then.” She stepped back and he looked up at her through his lashes. He’d been told he had beautiful eyelashes, long and dark. She looked down, then met his gaze. “Goodnight, friend.”

“Goodnight,” he murmured as she turned and left. He’d been staring at the same word in a book for a while when Kadaman sauntered in.

“I give it one week before you haul her back up here.”

“Leave me alone, Kadaman.”

His brother rested his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You will _never_ be able to have her, Avad. I suggest you start getting over that sooner rather than later.” He left without another word.

*

Avad held out for two weeks - mainly because Kadaman had Ersa assigned to tending the royal family’s private gardens in an effort to break his heart early, so Avad retaliated by moving his studying down there. She gave no indication that she knew what Kadaman - and Avad - had done, and was quiet as she went about her duties. He always knew when she was going to hand him a new quill or change the ink pot because he could smell the fresh earth on her. They didn’t say anything to each other, just worked in the hot sun and enjoyed each other’s company - at least, Avad hoped that Ersa enjoyed it as much as he did. His rooms may have been large and airy, bright and breezy when the heavy curtains and balcony doors were open, but it didn’t compare to being in the actual sunlight, feeling the warmth on his skin and the breeze that cooled him. He had tilted his head back and closed his eyes when a shadow fell over him.

“I have a request for the Sun-God.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up and he raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“And what might I pass on for you?”

 _“Turn it off.”_ Avad opened his eyes and Ersa was pointing to the sun, scowling. “Or down - I don’t care. Just make it stop. I can’t handle this heat.”

That made Avad laugh. He clasped his hands behind his head and stretched until his back popped. “I rather enjoy it.”

“Well, _I_ don’t. Make it stop.”

“Alas, my lady, I am but a minor prince with no sway over the Sun-God. We will have to suffer through the gift of the sun’s warmth and life as best we can.”

“We have plenty of warmth and life in the Claim, and none of this cursed heat.”

He had closed his eyes again, and yawned. “Well, stop being savages, then.”

“Right now, the Oseram are _far_ more civilized than any Carja.”

“Mm-hm.”

Ersa stomped a little. “We’re better than you at everything.”

“Build a palace like this one, then.”

“No, because this place is ugly.”

“Savages have terrible taste in architecture.” He should probably move inside before he fell asleep. He stayed put.

“And we’ve already established that you have terrible taste in general.”

“Just in friends …”

“You ---”

“Do all Oseram argue with their superiors?”

Ersa barked with laughter. _“You?_ My superior? Hardly. But yes, we argue with everyone, all the time. Rain, sleet, snow, sleep - all we do is argue. Fight me about it.”

“Are you going to argue with me all day,” Avad asked as he yawned again, “or would you like to come back up to my rooms tonight?”

She made a small noise and shut up for a moment. Avad treasured the silence while it lasted. “... Can I do both?”

“No.”

“... You promised to feed me grapes if I went down with the other slaves. You never did that. You lied to me.”

Avad jerked a little to stay awake. “... no … just forgot …”

“Why would a prince forget a promise?”

“... because you wouldn’t shut up for two seconds so I could remember …” She sputtered a little. “... let me sleep …”

Evening was falling when cold water dribbled on his face. Avad woke with a gasp and looked up to see Ersa’s crooked grin as she held a silver chalice just above him. She sloshed a bit more water out of it, and he sat up, wiping at his face and scowling.

“Why are you so _mean?”_

“You were mean to me, first.” She had a platter of food, grapes included, in her other hand. “Come on, get your lazy ass up. You’ve been sleeping all day, and you owe me grapes. You can read me some stupid poetry while you’re at it.” Avad stretched a bit before getting up. He let Ersa gather his things and led her upstairs. “Did Kadaman bet on how long until you’d let me back up?”

“He thought it would be a week. I refuse to bet with him about anything.”

“So we win, right?”

“... Yes. We win.”

She gave a small victory cheer and set his things down on his desk before handing him the tray of food and flopping back onto the bed, gesturing in what she probably thought was an imperious manner. “Well, feed me, slave. I haven’t had a decent meal in two weeks.”

Rather than pulling his chair up to the side of the bed, Avad went to the foot and got in it, walking on his knees until he could sit cross-legged next to her with the tray in his lap. She watched him with a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He wiggled his fingers over the food as he picked out the first bit, a thin slice of roasted boar, and held it over her half-open lips. She opened them further, slowly, still watching him. He watched the meat and not her as she stuck her tongue out a bit to guide it into her mouth, and looked down to choose her next bite rather than watch her watching him. He didn’t think she was _trying_ to seduce him - she was too honest to be able to carry off that sort of charade - but she was succeeding anyway.

“I want grapes,” she whispered after a while.

“You need to eat a real meal, first,” he whispered back, offering her a bite of bread.

She ate until he was satisfied, then he dipped the napkin on the tray into the water cup and gently wiped the boar grease from her mouth. She may have made a soft noise of what was perhaps pleasure. “You make a pretty good slave,” she told him.

Avad’s laugh was more of a puff of air. “Truly, I have missed my calling in life.”

Ersa shook her head, an exaggeratedly sorrowful expression on her face. “Forced to live instead as a pampered prince. I weep for you.” He held out the first grape and she opened her mouth just enough for him to slide it in, lips brushing against the tips of his fingers. Avad’s breathing was a little more shallow than normal. He offered her a second one as her eyes fluttered shut with pleasure at the taste. “Where’s my stupid poetry?” she whispered after a few more grapes.

Her lips brushed against his fingertips again, electric shocks shuddering through him, and Avad spoke without thinking. _“Thus it will be; slender arrows are lodged in my heart, / and Love vexes the chest that it has seized. / Shall I surrender or stir up the sudden flame by fighting it? / I will surrender - a burden becomes light when it is carried willingly.”_ (1)

Ersa opened her eyes as she laughed softly. “Really? Love poems? Is that all you read all day? No wonder you’re such a silly man.”

Avad’s cheeks were flushed, but he ignored it and pressed another grape against her lips. _“Love me faithfully, / Taking heed of my loyalty, / With all your heart, / With all your mind. / I am closest to you / When I am far away; / Whoever loves like this / Rides on the wheel of Fortune.”_ (2)

She nipped his fingers as she took the grape, this time. “No. Stop. I give up. I can’t handle this.”

“You wanted stupid poetry,” he told her. It was a whisper, to keep his voice from shaking. _“My first night is approaching! / A lot more time for my first night! / O Moon, dwell longer over our first union. / And you, Sun, who draw out summer fires, / Cut short the journey of the light that's still to linger.”_ (3)

Ersa covered her face with one hand and batted at him with the other. She was turning red. “No, please! Stop! I take it back - I don’t want any more poetry.”

“But Ersa,” Avad protested, “these are some of the greatest love poems of the entire Sundom.”

“I don’t care,” she mumbled. “They’re terrible.”

“Are you sure? Because I know a lot more.” She reached behind her and pulled her pillow over her face, shaking her head as she laughed. He set the tray of scraps to one side and slid down so he was laying on his side, head propped on his hand as he poked at the pillow. She squeaked, shook her head, and laughed each time. “Just one more?”

“No!” was her muffled cry. “I’ll smother you!”

“Friends do not smother each other, Ersa.”

“Friends _also_ do not let friends read terrible poetry.” She pulled the pillow down to just barely peek at him over it.

Avad arched an eyebrow. “Ah, no. I think that you are quite mistaken. I believe that friends encourage one another in their pursuits, not make fun of them for what they take pleasure in.”

“The servants think your mind is addled,” he was told, “and now I believe them.”

He huffed. “Fine. I will never read you poetry again.”

“Good.” She yawned, then rolled over to stand up. “My nightshirt is downstairs.”

The bed was incredibly soft. Avad lay back and waved at his wardrobe. “Wear one of mine.”

“Then the others will _really_ think that we’re having sex. They think that we’re fighting right now.”

“Why would I care what servants think about me?”

She snorted a bit, then the mattress shifted a bit and the covers moved as she got in. _“You_ don’t have to work with them.”

“Mm.” She had turned to face him, her breath soft on his arm. “Did you tell them I’m any good?”

“No. I said you were terrible. Probably a virgin.”

That got a bit of laughter as he was nodding off. “Oh, good. My reputation is intact, then.”

“I try my best,” was the last thing he heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I _did_ shamelessly rip off the Latin poets Ovid (1) and Propertius (3), and the Carmina Burana manuscripts (2), for Avad’s stupid love poetry. I’m gonna do it again, too. _Fuckin’ fight me._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avad struggles with Ersa's trust issues with men, proves he can do more than just quote stupid love poetry, there's story time, and Ersa/Janeva is my brotp.

Avad hadn’t woken up next to someone in a long time. He might doze next to a lover once in a while, but he never let them spend the night, and he was always at least two arms’ lengths away from Ersa while they slept. It was unusual in any case for him to wake to the soft breathing of someone else, to the warmth of their body, to the gentle touch of their hand on his between their bodies. He lay quietly and kept his breathing even in the hopes of not disturbing his bed partner, and almost ruined it by laughing to himself - Ersa wasn’t his bed partner by far, unless he wanted to get exceptionally technical about the term. He considered moving so as not to make her uncomfortable when she woke up, but wasn’t sure if that movement would wake her up and cause her more distress, so he stayed put instead and wondered if she would leave at Midsummer. It would be the perfect time, with all the festivities and general confusion. He doubted that she would tell him directly, though, which meant he probably wouldn’t be able to arrange for the guards loyal to him to be the only ones around when she left. He would ask Toran to keep an eye on things and arrange guards as necessary. Kadaman might know, as well.

The room was barely lighting with the sunrise as Avad listened to the slight hitch in Ersa’s breath that said she’d awoken. There was a stronger hitch, followed by complete silence, then she slowly pulled her hand away from his and sat up. He waited until she’d been moving around for a while before stirring. Neither of them said anything as she pulled up the water for his bath, and she was sitting at his desk, feet propped up on it and his breakfast next to her, reading a book when he came out of the bathing room. She closed it with a snap and tossed it away, but not before he’d seen the color of it and grinned.

“Is that Eloquent Tatavid’s _Treatise on the Tender Arts?”_ he asked as he leaned in the doorway and ran his fingers through his bangs.

 _“No,”_ she blatantly lied with a scoff as she stood up and put distance between her and the book.

“Really? Because I know for a fact that that is the _only_ book I own with that color cover. Read anything you like? I feel certain I have it all memorized.”

She made a gesture that was considered rude amongst the Oseram. Avad kept grinning. “This is why Kadaman is the heir. _He_ at least reads _useful_ books.”

“If you think that I am unable to plan a battle and quote love poetry while doing so, my lady,” Avad told her as he pushed away from the doorway and walked toward his desk, “then you are quite mistaken.” He picked up the book and let it fall open to the page she’d been reading, then quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, you found the erotic poems.” He said it lightly, and had the pleasure of seeing her blush and start stomping around as she cleaned.

“I’m sure that Lady Talanih enjoys the fruits of your studies,” she finally snapped.

Avad shrugged. “Well, practice makes perfect,” he murmured as he read the poem. It was fairly - if artfully and in sometimes-confusing euphemisms - explicit, speaking entirely of the author’s joy in his lover’s body, in the way she called him to her, in their mutual eagerness for him to kiss her between her legs.

Ersa paused. “... I’m not sure if you just called _her_ or _yourself_ a slut.”

“Mm.” He closed the book and started browsing through the rest of his books and scrolls, pulling out one or two on effective warfare. “I am the prince, and a man. I cannot be a slut by those two facts alone.”

She scoffed. “Our societies have so much in common, it’s really a shame that we’re fighting. _I_ had a _rumor_ go around that I’d had sex and it took three years to shut everyone up about what a whore I was. Meanwhile, my brother got caught having sex in the open - _in broad daylight_ \- and was every man’s hero.”

He shrugged again. “The regrettable consequence of being the gender that carries pregnancies.”

“Right, _you_ all get to do what and whoever the hell you want, and _women_ can’t even _look_ at a man without our honor being torn apart. Tch, _honor._ What does that even _mean?_ I have _never_ heard about a _man_ bringing dishonor on his family or clan because he slept with someone, or was caught alone with her.” There was a shaking anger in her words that Avad hadn’t heard in a long time. He sank into his chair and turned to look at her as he considered what she was saying. He didn’t think there was an undue discrepancy in how women and men were treated in regards to sex, but Ersa clearly did - and she was a woman, so she would know best. He tilted his head and made a slight gesture for her to continue - not that she needed the encouragement. She paced and huffed, cheeks flushed with anger, now, rather than embarrassment. “Alright, look - those poems? Trash. Utter trash. Please tell me you didn’t learn to have sex from that garbage, because if you did, I take back every nasty thought I’ve had about Lady Talanih and I’m going to be her best friend. Hell, I might even bed her, myself, to show her what good sex actually is. If your precious virgin lover bleeds, _it’s because she’s in pain and you’re doing it wrong._ If she pulls away and you have to convince her to fuck you, _she doesn’t want to fuck you._ Or maybe all her ‘coyness’ and ‘teasing’ is because she actually _does_ want to fuck, but she thinks you’ll call her a slut if she sleeps with you. Do you think that any of that ever occurred to ‘Eloquent’ Tatavid?”

None of Tatavid’s poetry spoke of anything but willing, if sometimes shy, lovers, but Avad wasn’t about to mention that. There was plenty of poetry that glorified what Ersa was angry about, and plenty of men who did, as well - Avad had seen many nobles pursue women until they went to bed, then turn around and call them whores for the very thing the men had practically begged them for.

“And what,” Ersa was continuing, crossing her arms and rubbing them, “is men’s obsession with their dicks? Why do you all seem to think that length - or dicks in general - matter to a woman’s pleasure? You can’t just wag it about, and expect us to - expect us to - I just - oh, by the Forge …”

She bolted for the balcony and threw up over it as Avad quietly poured a cup of water and went over the poems she could have read before he’d come out from his bath. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her he had the book memorized. All of the erotic poems spoke of a man’s desire to please his lover and described doing exactly that, in tenderly explicit detail. It wasn’t Tatavid’s poetry that had upset his friend. Avad had no idea how long it took for someone to heal from being raped, but it had been half a year since the last time a man had taken Ersa against her will, and he wondered if reading Tatavid’s poetry had aroused her. If it had, and that had brought back painful memories - or even just jealousy that she hadn’t ever been treated with such kindness and respect - then that would explain why she was so upset. Avad didn’t know how to help her, and knowing that she was suffering and he couldn’t do anything about it made his heart and gut clench. He finally got up and brought the cup of water to the balcony doors, kneeling and setting it on the ground before backing away. Ersa was sitting with her knees held against her chest and gripping two of the stone posts of the balcony railing, pressing her cheek to one and breathing shallowly, eyes closed. He brought out a blanket after a moment and piled it next to the cup, then closed the balcony doors to just a crack to give her more privacy. There was a faint scuffing as soon as he’d sat at his desk. After a half hour or so of reading, he opened one of his desk’s drawers and pulled out a bag of wooden hexagons painted to resemble various types of terrain - forests, deserts, grasslands, and mountains. He held the book in one hand as he crouched by the end of his bed and started laying them out as diagrammed, then took out the bag of troop figurines and started setting them up. He paid no attention to the creak of the balcony doors opening as he crouched and stared at the map. Small groups of ranged and shock infantry would work better in the mountainous regions, with larger groups on the flat lands. He shifted the red forces around, then turned his attention to the blue ones. He’d been at it for a good hour, consulting his book at each stage, when the lump of blankets that had crawled under his bed spoke.

“Bad idea.”

He didn’t look up, just raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

There was silence for another minute or so as he played a careful battle against himself, then, “Ehhhhh …” Another minute later and he got an exasperated huff. “Ugh, terrible …” Then her hand crept out and she tried to move some figures around, but wasn’t able to put them where she wanted them without leaving the safety of the blanket and bed. Avad handed her a long stick with a flat head, meant for moving troop figures around. She took it and gently slapped his hand with it, then shifted troops to a different location, one that his current formation of red troops wasn’t easily able to counter. “Hah.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That is _not_ something the book talks about.”

“The book is stupid.” He snorted a little, but it held no venom. “It isn’t a _bad_ strategy, if you’re playing against yourself - but against someone else, it’s terrible. It lacks the element of surprise.”

“My great-great-grandfather wrote this book.”

“My condolences on the stupidity of your great-great-grandfather.”

“These are actual tactics that he used against the Tenakth.”

“Hardly means they’ll _always_ be useful.” She advanced her troops, and Avad shifted his own to counter them. After a while she just knocked over his infantry, and he groaned.

“Look, if you are just going to play around ---”

“Canons.”

Avad paused. “What?”

Ersa sounded smug. “Oseram canons, you idiot. Did you forget that we have those?”

“But these are not ---”

 _“I_ am Oseram. Therefore _these_ are Oseram. And _I_ have canons, and _your_ troops are dead, and _you’re_ crying about _you_ forgetting about _my_ canons.”

Avad took a deep breath and gathered his red troops, setting them upright again. “I am _not_ crying.” It did sting a little, though. He should have thought of that. “Again?”

She crawled halfway out from under the bed and started setting up her troops. “Oh, I simply can’t - I have a ball to go to.”

“Haha. Wait.” He got up and scrounged around until he found bits and pieces that could reasonably be considered canon-like, then handed them to her. “Canons.”

Ersa pointed towards his desk. “You never ate breakfast.” Avad looked over his shoulder. True enough, his food was still on the desk. “Go, eat. How did you not starve before meeting me?”

 _“To hear your voice / is pomegranate wine to me:,”_ Avad quoted without thinking as he got up. Ersa groaned and covered her eyes with one hand. _“I draw life from hearing it.”_

“I hate you so much.”

He brought the tray of cold food back and sat with a grin. _“Could I see you with every glance, / It would be better for me / Than to eat or to drink.” 1_

“Good, then give me your food. I’m still hungry.” She reached for the goose meat and Avad pulled it away. “You said ---”

“I was quoting poetry,” he told her, “not talking to you specifically.”

She blinked at him. He watched her calmly and hoped the fluttering of his heart wasn’t visible. She finally pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow, clearly trying to figure out how to get him to give her his food as he ate slowly and nudged some troops around. “If I win, can I have your food?”

“No.”

A few of his troops went down. Ersa huffed. “If I lose, can I have your food?”

He removed a few of hers. “No.”

“I’ll starve.”

“You will not.”

“If I keep Talanih away ---”

“Please don’t.” Ersa arched an eyebrow and grinned at him. Avad was trying to move his troops into a pincer maneuver, and looked up at her briefly. “What?”

“Uh-huh.”

He sighed. “Yes, Lady Talanih can be a bit odious in how very much she wants to marry well, but she _is_ … useful … to me at the moment.”

“Useful to your dick,” Ersa muttered as she repositioned her own troops, thwarting his efforts.

Avad groaned at both her moves and her crudeness. “Yes. I enjoy bedding her. And when I get tired of her, I will send her away. If _she_ gets tired of not getting exactly what she wants, she can stop coming to me. She knows this.” He cleared his throat as she opened her mouth again. “If I give you the rest of my food, will you be quiet?”

“Deal.” She made it ten whole minutes before she was talking again. “Do Carja nobles usually breastfeed their own children?”

He dropped one of his troop pieces. _“What?”_

“Nasadi breastfeeds Itamen. From the the servants have said, that’s a very odd thing to do. Oseram always breastfeed their own kids unless the mother can’t, because _we_ actually _like_ children, but I was wondering if ---”

“It is unusual,” Avad cut her off tersely, “yes. Carja nobles generally employ wet nurses. Nasadi, however, had a difficult birth with Itamen. She is most likely trying to keep from getting pregnant again too soon, which could endanger her life.”

Ersa looked at him, first in surprise at his harshness and then in embarrassment. She lowered her eyes. “... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean ---”

“You said you would be quiet if I gave you my food.” He didn’t know if his mother had tried that, or if his father had left her alone after his birth, and if he hadn’t, if that had contributed to her death. He didn’t know if she had held him the way Nasadi held Itamen, had kissed him the same way, had taken so much joy in him. Not knowing if he’d been shown the amount of affection that his second-mother showed his baby brother made him irrationally angry. He set a piece down with enough force that Ersa hid a flinch, and that made him angrier even as he tried to disguise his rising agitation. He hated feeling as if he couldn’t show the least amount of negative emotions when Ersa was around. It hadn’t been _his_ fault. _He_ hadn’t hurt her. He was still forced to walk on eggshells around her whenever he was upset, otherwise she would flinch a little, get quiet, and end up hiding under the bed for a while if his anger was strong enough to provoke it - and that strength could be anywhere from a gentle, irritated huff to him actually raising his voice. He never knew what would set her off.

Avad got up after a few more minutes of tense silence and left. He was losing, anyway. It would give Ersa time to collect herself - and him, as well. He wandered the halls for a bit before the strains of music drifted to him. He followed them down to the Lower Gardens, where Kadaman and a few of his friends were lounging and drinking, watching a group of dancing girls as they shimmied and shook. He watched from the doorway for a bit before one of the girls saw him and shimmied over, shaking her hips, flipping her wavy, full black hair over her shoulder, and batting her eyelashes at him as she tried to entice him into the gardens. He laughed a little and shook his head with a smile. It got him a pout and she raised and dropped her chest in the fascinating way that dancing girls had, jingling in time to the music. Avad raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips to the side, but let her take his hand and raise it, spinning herself with a giggle. Kadaman called him over so he let her lead him, enjoying the touch of a woman who neither wanted anything from him nor flinched at skin-on-skin contact.

“I was starting to think you were dead,” Kadaman laughed. He swatted at the girl’s rear and she wiggled her hips at him. “Give me a kiss, darling.”

Avad leaned down and puckered his lips before the girl could. “Well, just one.”

He pulled back before Kadaman could hit him, as the young noblemen around them laughed. “Go to hell. I was talking to this pretty girl. Come here, sweetheart.” He patted his knee and she shimmied a bit in front of him, then sat daintily, only to be dipped back with a flail of her voluminous silk skirts and a muffled cry as he kissed her. Avad rolled his eyes and nodded to the other young men. Kadaman was a little breathless when he let the young woman sit up. He tapped her on the tip of her nose. _“You_ are a _very_ good girl, do you know that?” She just laughed, and he pulled her back when she tried to get up. “You just sit here for a bit. Is Ersa not coming down, as well?”

“I gave her some things to do.” Avad had settled on a lounge chair and taken a glass of wine from a serving boy.

Kadaman snorted. “Well, _we_ are planning Midsummer shenanigans. We may need her.”

That made Avad sigh. “No. Leave my servant alone.”

“Oh, but we want to go drinking with her,” Ewoin put in. “Kadaman says she packs a hell of a punch.”

“She may not be attending the festival.” Avad said it pointedly, raising his eyebrows at Kadaman, who shrugged.

“Well, _if she does,_ I need her. You would just quote poetry at her, anyway. _I_ am the _fun_ prince.”

“Here, here,” a few of the other young men laughed, raising their glasses.

“And _I_ do not endanger her life.” Avad took some grapes and maize bread when a serving boy offered them.

“My sister is displeased at that,” Ewoin laughed. “I assume you aren’t bedding her, if only because that dirty slut is so convinced you are.”

Avad shook his head. “That is none of Talanih’s business, and are you implying that I would bed a promiscuous woman?”

Ewoin arched a delicately-shaped eyebrow, his eyes the same green of his sister’s. “Of course not, Your Radiance - but you _cannot_ believe that Talanih was a virgin before you.”

“And did _you_ not have a contest a while ago to see how many women you could bed in a day? Would that not make you yourself a slut?”

“Here we go again,” Kadaman muttered.

Ewoin shook his head with a shrug. “It is a man’s right to bed women.”

Avad leaned forward. “And yet as soon as they give you what you want, you call them dirty sluts. Perhaps the filth comes from your own hands, and not them.”

“Well, women should remain chaste.”

That had Avad blinking, a little dumbfounded. “Are you not hearing your hypocrisy, Ewoin? Women need to remain chaste, but they also need to sleep with you whenever you want them to? They are practically obligated to sleep with you, but are tainted after doing so? How does that make any sort of sense to you?”

 _“Enough.”_ Kadaman threw a rock at him. “I am _trying_ to have a good time. Go push your social agenda somewhere else, Avad, or shut the hell up and drink.” He snapped his fingers. “You. Give him something else to think about.” Another girl came up to shimmy at him, sliding halfway between his legs to do so, and Avad settled back to watch her and half-heartedly listen to his brother and his friends.

 _“We_ would all prefer _you,_ Your Radiance,” a soft voice murmured, hidden beneath a giggle as a second girl came up, bending over backwards as she undulated her shoulders and arms. It was quite the feat, and Avad tilted his head as he raised an eyebrow and watched her. Her eyes were so brown as to be almost black, her facial features strong and her skin the color of caramelized sugar.

“Oh, but you must be hungry, Your Radiance.” The girl between his legs sat on his knee and brushed her pale golden hair behind her shoulders before taking a cup of wine and pressing it to his lips as he laughed a little. “His Radiance, your brother, is boring. Tell us a story.”

“Oh, of Sun-King Ranan!” her friend exclaimed, sitting next to him and leaning in close, sweet-smelling and lovely. They were pleasant young ladies with a multitude of charms - soft ones, that brushed against his arms as they pressed against him on either side, eager for him to tell them his tale.

Avad didn’t bother putting up a fight - he just grinned at them. “Ranan, the Firebird? I was just reading one of his books on warfare against the Tenakth. Here ---” He shifted a little to get more comfortable, and rested one arm around the black-haired girl’s waist, hand curled into a gentle fist. He raised his other hand to emphasize his words. “So, as we all know, the Radiant Ranan was a strong Sun-King, just and fair. It was three years after he inherited the throne from his father, Khuvadin the Returner, that the Tenakth started to attack the Sundom’s southern borders.”

“Cannibals,” the blonde murmured with a shiver, scooting closer to Avad.

It was a debatable claim, but Avad just smiled at her and let her wrap her arms around his bicep. “They respected strength above all else - there was no diplomatic solution to be found. They sent waves and waves of their tribe over the border, and at first Ranan was content to send troops to fend them off while he sent diplomats, but after the diplomats stopped returning, that was when he himself started to lead the army. Now, my favorite story of his is when he led a night raid into one of their encampments - the Tenakth had actually taken from the southernmost tip of the Sundom to nearly Sunstone Rock. He took three of his best men, without armor or weapons, and crawled through the jungle all night, evading both Tenakth warriors and machines alike - but this was before the Derangement, so the machines were far more docile, albeit still dangerous.” He paused to let a slight squabble die down as two more girls - whether dancing girls or members of his father’s increasingly-unused harem, he neither knew nor cared - settled at his feet, pushing each other a bit as each one tried to lean against his free leg. He cleared his throat and they looked up at him guiltily and calmed down. “... And once at the encampment, evaded detection by wearing boar skins over themselves, then they scaled the walls with their bare hands.” He walked his fingers up the arm of the girl on his knee, and she shivered and giggled. “The Tenakth were hardly expecting a stealth attack, and Ranan and his men killed at least fifty warriors before they were found out.”

“Out of how many?” one of the girls asked, her bosom bouncing as much as her kinky black curls as she got to her knees and leaned forward with excitement.

Avad kept his eyes on her face and blessed his exceptionally good peripheral vision as he grinned. “Oh, at _least_ two hundred. So there they were, far behind enemy lines, with an entire Tenakth camp hunting for them - but the Tenakth were hardly expecting their adversaries to be so few in number, unarmed, and naked but for boar skins. Ranan and his men found the leader of the camp and slew him, only to have to hide in the boar pens while the remaining warriors looked for them.”

“A _Sun-King_ in a _boar pen,”_ the girls giggled amongst themselves.

 _“Stark naked_ in a boar pen,” Avad added. They collapsed with laughter, and he caught Kadaman’s gaze. His brother just rolled his eyes with a good-natured grin. He waited while they shifted around - they seemed to have some sort of system in place, wherein they switched places after a certain amount of time so they could all have a turn sitting on his lap. As long as no one was fighting, he was fine with that. They were all lovely in their own ways, all eager to be close to him, to be touching him, and he was starting to regret his moral position against sleeping with servants. Avad cleared his throat and squeezed the waist of the brunette that now sat on his knee. “As it turned out, the Tenakth are very superstitious about spirits - Ranan and his men had managed to set up trip wires through the camp - not blast or shock wires, but simple traps that would cause, say, a pole to fall over if the wire was disturbed. They tormented the Tenakth all night, taking out warriors when they could, until - leaderless and in a panic - the Tenakth set fire _to their own camp.”_ He let the brunette feed him a few bites of fruit, and squeezed her waist a bit again. “The best part,” he concluded, “was that his advisors and the Sun-Priests were always incredibly against him being personally involved in any battle, so he told them that he was going into religious seclusion for a week or so, to pray to the Sun for guidance. He and his two men took out two other camps before heading back to Meridian, strolling in like nothing had happened, completely shocked - _shocked_ \- at the news.” The girls laughed, and Avad shook his head. “I take it back - the _absolute_ best part was that he _also_ took a piglet from the first camp, and kept it as a pet until it died. He just … went into ‘religious seclusion’ for a week, and came back with a tiny piglet. He never explained it to anyone but his sons.”

“Will _you_ have sons, Your Radiance?” the brunette asked coyly as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Avad blinked. “I ... will have whatever children the Sun blesses me with. I have no preference for gender.”

 _“That_ is the truth,” Kadaman laughed. “Tedolin, your brother is coming to Midsummer, is he not?”

Avad glared at his brother and his friends as his cheeks heated. “I do not need help finding people to bed, Kadaman.”

“Not with the selection you have right now.” The women around him giggled. “You have plenty to choose from. Unless you prefer more … masculine women? Say, ones who could best you in a fight?” Avad was opening his mouth to reply when there was a commotion at the other end of the gardens. Ersa came flying in wearing practice padding and holding a wooden sword, and a woman in Carja armor followed her, lunging forward even as Ersa whirled and jumped, tucking her feet beneath her and slashing down.

“Captain Janeva!” was the delighted cry from a couple of the dancing girls. They got a flash of a grin as the woman parried and rolled, coming at Ersa from the side.

Avad and the other men looked at each other with frowns. “Captain … Janeva?”

“Oh, yes,” the blonde girl said with a nod. “He is _wonderful._ He is strong, and kind, and _so_ handsome.”

“Captain … Janeva.”

There was a soft laugh behind him and the clink of armor. “Just accept it, Your Radiance,” Toran told him. “He _will_ break arms to prove that he is nothing but a soldier.”

“Running away, Oseram?” the soldier called out as Ersa turned and fled. She used her momentum to jump onto a stone bench, and from there to the wall itself, turning and launching herself at him. He fell back with a brief, startled cry, and was put on the defensive.

“I run from no one!” Ersa taunted. “Least of all scum like the Carja!”

“You _will_ keep a civil tongue in your head around Their Radiances, slave!”

Ersa and Janeva - both around the same height, Janeva with the close-cropped hair of a soldier and Ersa’s hair now hanging past her ears - circled one another as Avad and Kadaman both raised their hands to keep their guards back and the outrage of the nobles at bay. Ersa spit in Avad’s general direction. “Scum, each and every one of you. Your idiot princes are the worst.” Janeva stepped forward and Ersa met her - him - the captain in the middle, their practice swords almost splintering as they clashed and struggled against one another. “You and your people are nothing but rapists and slavers, murderers and torturers,” she snarled. “I hate you all.”

Janeva ducked down and tried to headbutt Ersa, but Ersa jumped again and pushed herself off of Janeva’s back, knocking Janeva’s sword from her hands. Janeva simply tackled Ersa and Avad’s gut clenched as he waited for Ersa to start to panic. She didn’t - she wrestled Janeva into a headlock and squeezed her throat. His throat.

“You tell me who the rapists are,” Janeva choked out, “and I will kill them myself.” Ersa hesitated and Janeva used the distraction to throw her onto the ground, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her head back. “Apologize to Their Radiances.”

“I’m _sorry,”_ Ersa grunted as she struggled, “that they curse the world with their existence.” Janeva turned her over and let a fist fly, but Ersa met it with her forehead. They both swore, but it let Ersa throw the captain off of her and scramble up.

“Keep it to swords and fists!” Kadaman called. “No choking! No biting!”

“No damn fun at all!” Ersa yelled back. She and Janeva rolled toward the chaise that Avad was on, and the girls around him screamed and jumped on it with him. He tucked his feet beneath himself, cross-legged, as she and Janeva tried to kill each other. Ersa glanced up at him - her hands around Janeva’s neck and Janeva’s around hers - and blew a raspberry. “Hey.”

Avad sighed. “Hello. Having fun?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you need help?”

Ersa heaved and threw Janeva forward, then grabbed the closest practice sword and slammed it across the captain’s back before jumping up and back. “Nope!”

He shrugged as Janeva pulled herself - himself - themself - up. “Are you having fun, Captain?”

Janeva wiped some blood from their mouth and snarled as they focused on Ersa. “Yes, Your Radiance. Hiding behind your master, slave?” they asked as they and Ersa circled Avad.

Ersa laughed derisively. “He’s too pretty to be _my_ master. I might call him my wife, though.”

Janeva’s face darkened for a moment, then they barked with laughter. “His Radiance would make a far better wife than you do a soldier.”

Ersa leapt up and over the chaise - Avad and the dancing girls all ducking - and knocked Janeva back with a flurry of attacks. Their fight ranged across the gardens for another half hour or so, until they had tackled each other but were too exhausted to move, kneeling and leaning against one another, unable to get the upper hand. Avad got up and walked over, laughing to himself as he picked up the practice swords and tossed them away. He crouched by the two and grinned.

“Are you two finished?”

“No,” Ersa panted. “Just catching my breath.”

“I will not give up until _she_ does.”

“Ah.” Avad jerked his head, and a pageboy came over with a pitcher of water and upended it over the two of them at a gesture. Ersa and Janeva both let out cries of protest and tried to get up, but fell over instead. “So, does Ersa make an absolutely _terrible_ soldier, Captain, or would I make the perfect wife?”

Ersa pulled back a bit and Janeva lowered their head and moved into what could reasonably be called a sort of bow. They stared at the ground. “Ah … I meant no offense, Your Radiance.” They cleared their throat. “Your slave is a fine soldier.”

“My _name_ is _Ersa.”_

“If a little mouthy.”

Avad reached out and put his hand on Ersa’s shoulder to keep her from going for Janeva again. “So … I would make a good wife, then.” He was trying not to grin, absolutely entertained by Janeva’s attempts to not insult him while still complimenting Ersa.

“He hasn’t the hips for it,” Ersa went on. “And would probably only give birth to girls. You Carja don’t like women much, do you?”

“And the Oseram do?”

“Shut up, I’m not talking about the Oseram.”

Janeva jerked their head up with a snarl. “How dare you ---”

Avad laughed. Janeva looked at him. “No more fighting for today, you two. Come on, Ersa.” He stood and tried to pull her up, but she glared up at him and sat, refusing to move. “Ersa …”

“No. I’m tired. And mad at you.”

“For what?”

 _“Slavery is bad!”_ she yelled as loud as she could. _“Human sacrifice is bad! You people are bad!”_

Avad pursed his lips. “We can discuss this later.”

“No! We can discuss this _now!_ You, woman! How many of my people have you butchered?!”

“I am a _soldier,_ not a _woman,”_ Janeva snapped, “and how many of _my_ men have _you_ murdered?”

“I fight in self-defense!” Ersa pulled herself up using the fountain they were by, and jerked out of Avad’s grasp. “And I wouldn’t _have_ to if _you_ bastards would leave us alone! Have you _seen_ what a sacrifice in your damn Sun Ring looks like?”

“No,” Janeva snapped. “My men and I have been in the South, protecting our borders against the Tenakth.”

“Protecting against them, or raiding them for sacrifices?” Ersa turned away in disgust, clearly showing that she didn’t consider Janeva a threat - or counting on Avad to stop an attack. “I hate you all.”

“And yet you rely on His Radiance’s generosity to keep you out of the slave quarters.”

Ersa whirled around and stalked back, stopping just out of grabbing distance. “I rely on _no one’s_ generosity.”

 _“Stop.”_ They both looked at Avad and where Janeva knelt and lowered their head, Ersa raised her chin in defiance. He sighed and kicked at the ground. “I just wanted to know if I would make a good wife …”

Ersa burst out laughing and clapped him on the shoulder. “Yes. You would make a good wife, provided you didn’t have to do any of the cooking, because I am an excellent soldier. Kissed my blade well, I did.”

“Oh, good.” Avad pushed her into the fountain and went to sit back down with the harem and dancing girls. Ersa came up hollering. “Go bathe. You stink.”

She huffed. “I smell just fine.”

“Do you _always_ argue with people?” Janeva asked.

“I’m Oseram.”

“She’s Oseram.”

They’d spoken in unison, and Ersa crossed her arms over her chest. “We argue about everything. What to do, what to build, who has the prettiest wife, who has the ugliest wife … We argue to establish dominance, and then we argue about _that,_ too. Get used to it, pretty-boy.”

Kadaman was craning his neck, looking at the far end of the gardens, and making shooing motions. “I thought _I_ was the pretty one,” Avad commented. He got a dirty look and grinned. “But I _do_ need you to go, now, Ersa.” He pointed. “Please.”

“What if I don’t _want_ to go?”

Kadaman groaned and stood up. “Father!”

Everyone hit their knees as Avad glared at Ersa, who had gone pale. Jiran seemed to be mostly in his right mind as he walked through the gardens, looking everyone over with a stern gaze that passed for neutral for him. He held his hands clasped loosely behind his back and stopped in front of Avad.

“I was wondering where my harem had gone. Do you prefer Avad to me, now, girls?”

He got nervous giggles and fluttering eyelashes, and Avad shook his head. “I was just telling them a story, Father. Of Ranan the Firebird.”

He got a low laugh. “Are you _that_ bored, girls, that Avad must entertain you?”

“His Radiance the prince is an excellent storyteller, Your Luminance,” the girl with the bouncy curls murmured. She got up and stood in front of Jiran, looking up at him through her lashes and letting him take her by her chin and move her head this way and that, looking her over critically. She fluttered her lashes at him. “Are _you_ bored?”

“I soon won’t be,” he murmured. “Come with me.”

“Yes, Your Luminance.”

It was a minute or so after they had left the gardens before Kadaman got up. “Well, this has been a lovely day. I think I will retire.” Avad was staring after their father darkly, his stomach twisting with worry for the harem girl.

“Hela will be fine, Your Radiance,” the blonde dancer told him. He looked at her quickly, and her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “We are well-trained, and your father is not a cruel lover. Hela is a favorite of his. Please do not worry about us.”

Avad turned his gaze to Ersa, who was arguing with Janeva over whether or not she got the rest of Avad’s food. “I worry about everyone,” he murmured.

He got a kiss on the cheek and jumped a little, eyes wide. “You are a good, kind man, Your Radiance. Thank you.”

Avad flushed and looked down, then stood. “Ersa, Janeva, stop fighting. Ersa can have the food if she wants it.”

“She will get spoiled, Your Radiance,” was Janeva’s only complaint as they stopped back and let Ersa start stuffing her face.

 _“‘Will_ get spoiled,’” Ersa laughed through her mouthful.

Kadaman was laughing. “You are too late for that, Captain. Avad spoils her mercilessly - the damage is done.”

Ersa was eagerly drinking the rest of Avad’s wine. “Damn right it is.”

Avad just laughed at the look on Janeva’s face. “Tell me, Captain - how does a woman become a soldier?”

Janeva tensed and straightened with a shake of their head. “They don’t, Your Radiance. It is forbidden. I am a soldier, Your Radiance. Ask any of my men.”

“The Captain is on an enforced leave,” Toran spoke up. Avad looked over at him. “I have had the pleasure of serving with him before. Believe me - he is one of the most capable soldiers I have had the pleasure of knowing. His name is merely the result of … unfortunate parental decisions.”

Ersa held out some fruit for Janeva. “Here. The prince doesn’t care if I eat his food - I’m his favorite. Let’s spar again tomorrow.”

Avad nodded slowly when he was looked to for permission. Janeva took a peach and nodded. “I would enjoy that.”

“Good, it’s decided. I can get some peace and quiet and you two can argue all you like.” He gestured. “Now, Ersa, please - go bathe. Captain, please escort her and make sure she does.”

Ersa threw her arms out. “I am an _adult._ I do _not_ need help bathing.”

“Wonderful - argue with the captain about it on the way. Go.” He pointed until Ersa stomped off, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Is Janeva male or female?”

Toran shrugged. “Janeva breaks the arms of anyone who asks that. Ersa is comfortable with him.”

“Indeed she is. Jortyk is retiring soon, is he not?”

“Yes, Your Radiance.”

“He will need to be replaced.” That got what might have been a laugh, and Avad turned slightly. “Do you have something to say?”

“I think that you are choosing a new member of your honor guard based on how comfortable your slave will be with them - your slave who desperately wants to go home and raise an army against us.”

“Is she still leaving at Midsummer? I assume it will be Midsummer - between the confusion and the good weather, she can slip out and be halfway back to the Claim before anyone would notice.”

Toran shrugged. “Possibly. There have been … issues amongst the other slaves, though. The two older ones, the man and the woman. Their health is starting to fail and they are given very little respite even with Ersa rearranging their schedules.”

Avad started to walk slowly into the palace. “Would she pay Dretal to take them, instead of her?”

“She should have enough shards to pay for two people, Your Radiance. She might.” Toran cleared his throat. “Please stop falling in love with slaves.”

Avad laughed. “I am not in love with her, Toran - smitten, yes. But she is a slave, and I am her master - love cannot grow in such a situation.”

“Well, I am glad to hear you say that.”

“Tedolin’s brother _is_ coming to Midsummer, yes?”

Toran coughed to cover a laugh. “I will make sure you have ample time alone with him.”

He was a beautiful man, somewhere between Avad and Kadaman in age, but he hated the city and so was rarely there. Avad just grinned. “You are a good man, Toran.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) _[The Flower Song](http://www.love-poetry-of-the-world.com/Egyptian-Love-Poetry-Poem2.html)_ , ancient Egyptian poem
> 
> why write my own poetry when i can steal everyone else's


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janeva gets a promotion. Ersa isn't happy.

The early-morning sunlight shone through the thin linen of Avad’s tunic and pants as he stretched on the balcony with his hands clasped behind his head. Ersa watched him with narrowed eyes. He looked … different. He was hardly built like an Oseram man, and was slender in general, but he seemed … more so. She snorted a little with amusement as his pants started to slide off his hips and he hurried to catch them. He yawned and turned, and she looked back down at what remained of his breakfast as she picked at his meat.

“Have you lost weight?” she asked through a mouthful of maize bread when he walked back in.

He patted his body a bit and shrugged. “... Maybe.”

“You look like you’ve lost weight. How does a prince lose weight?”

He padded over and sat on his desk next to her with another yawn, rubbed his eyes, and shrugged again. “Because somehow, despite six meals a day being sent to my rooms these days, I’m not eating nearly as much as I used to.” He gave her a very pointed look. “I’m not sure how this is happening.”

Ersa paused with his cup of wine against her lips, and a very small twinge of guilt tried to get her attention. She blinked at him, eyes large. “Uh …”

Avad stared at her calmly until she set his cup down and scooted away from the desk with a faintly sick pit in her stomach. She sat with her hands clasped between her knees and head slightly lowered, and he finally grinned.

“Well, by the Sun, you _are_ capable of humility.”

“Uhm …” Avad kept grinning as he finished his food. Was she in trouble? She was sure he would have said something sooner, if it bothered him that she ate his food. Then she coughed and shrugged nonchalantly. “You can always ring for more food. It’s not my fault you don’t eat.”

That made Avad laugh as he finished his wine. He waved the cup in her direction. “Have you _seen_ yourself when I have food that you want?” He turned overly-large eyes on her and just stared after tossing her an apple, then looked at it as she held it in her lap, then back at her face. Ersa scowled. Avad slid off the desk and knelt on the floor in front of her, still staring between her face and her lap. Then he scooted forward a bit.

Ersa scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t do that.”

Avad didn’t say anything - he just kept staring and scooting, and Ersa leaned back when he got right up next to her. He pouted a bit, then, finally, “... are you going to finish that?”

Ersa scooted back and threw the apple at him. He caught it easily and grinned as he took a bite. “I don’t do that!”

“You do nothing _but_ that,” he countered. “No, I take it back. Sometimes you just take my food without asking. Like today. I woke up not half an hour ago, and you’ve eaten almost all my breakfast.”

“Get up earlier,” Ersa snapped, “and stop being lazy. Then you’ll get more food.”

There was a knock at the door, then Toran’s voice. “Captains Janeva and Balahn, Your Radiance.”

Ersa stared at Avad a bit defiantly. _“I’m_ not answering it.”

Avad just let out a short sigh and got up, still holding his pants up with one hand. “Come in,” he called. The door opened immediately and he turned to it with a grin as Ersa propped her feet up on his desk. “Balahn, my friend - and Captain Janeva. Please, come in.”

“Did you just get up? Sun’s been up for over an hour. I’ve been up for three.” The dark-haired Captain Balahn sounded nothing but amused as he sauntered in, Janeva behind him.

Avad shrugged and met him halfway, reaching out to clasp his arm and shoulder, then grabbing for his pants again. “I let the Sun-God dictate my sleep schedule.”

“Right. Up half the night reading, no doubt. Have you lost weight?”

“Ersa eats all my food.” Avad was grinning as he pointed to the culprit, and Ersa ignored him. There were still a few scraps of meat left.

That got a long sigh. “Stop letting her do it, then, you pushover.”

Avad laughed. “Oh, no - she gets _mean_ when she’s hungry.” 

“And she’s always hungry, no doubt.”

“I’m also right here!” Ersa exclaimed. She glared at the two friends and got matching grins in return. “What do you want? His Radiance is busy.”

That made Balahn laugh. His grin made his round face even rounder. “Busy looking pretty, no doubt.” Avad bat his eyes and preened a bit. Balahn ruffled his hair. “Get dressed, would you? Unless she’s burned all your clothes.”

“Nobody wants to see him naked,” Ersa muttered. Janeva stepped forward, looking around the room, and as he turned, he bumped into her feet and knocked them off the desk. “Hey!” He didn’t even look at her, just clasped his hands loosely behind his back. Ersa put her feet back up, and he turned again, once more knocking them off as Balahn dragged Avad to his wardrobe to get dressed, Avad good-naturedly protesting the entire time. “Excuse me, you need to stop.”

“And you need to act like a proper slave.”

Ersa glared at the captain, and got a faint sneer in return. “You know damn well Avad doesn’t care.”

Janeva leaned over her, hands on the chair’s arms. _“Prince_ Avad. Or do you want another sprained ankle?”

Ersa just laughed harshly. “Do _you?”_ She raised her foot, placed it on Janeva’s chest, and pushed. Janeva fell back easily, pulling Ersa along as well. She hit the floor and winced. “Ow!”

“If you stopped eating His Radiance’s food, you wouldn’t be so out of shape.”

Janeva was in armor, and Ersa was in as little of her uniform as she was comfortable with - belt, tunic, pants. She’d been leaving the vest off recently. Avad hadn’t seemed to notice, even when she was standing in front of him with spilled water soaking the tunic and plastering it to her body. She had done it on purpose, daring him to look at her body and be affected by it, angry that all he’d done was get up and get her a towel, angry that she was angry that he hadn’t acknowledged how visible her breasts were at all. She didn’t _want_ him to want her, but it still infuriated her that he didn’t even seem to _notice_ her. He could at least tell her to cover up.

Ersa pulled herself up by the edge of the desk and then spun the tray of food at Janeva, who ducked backwards. She followed it, sliding into front splits and hitting Janeva at the knees. He didn’t have his sword on him, so she grabbed his empty scabbard and yanked down, overbalancing him. He hit his knees instead of falling forward, ending up straddling her waist and grabbing her wrists.

“Are they flirting or fighting?”

Balahn sounded curious, but Avad just sounded resigned. “I have no idea. They’ll wear themselves out, then order beer from the kitchens. I think they … might … be friends.” Ersa and Janeva both scoffed at that. “If she says stop, you stop, Captain - understood?”

“Yes, Your Radiance.” Janeva grunted a bit as Ersa tried to wriggle free. “What _do_ you to do to be in such favor with the prince?”

“Suck his dick,” Ersa snapped.

 _“That’s_ a lie.”

“Mind your own business!” Avad just snorted as he and Balahn moved out to the balcony to talk. “Why are you even here?”

“His Radiance requested Balahn and I come see him this morning.” Janeva blew some errant hair out of his eyes and didn’t loosen his grip when Ersa relaxed. He knew better. “Technically, his orders were for ‘first thing,’ but Balahn suggested we wait a bit. His Radiance’s idea of ‘first thing in the morning’ seems to be a bit … different … than ours.”

Ersa laughed. “He does his morning salutations half asleep and then goes right back to bed. He’s useless.” She wasn’t expecting Janeva to let her go just long enough to slap her vaguely gently across the cheek, and jerked with surprise before starting to struggle again. “He slapped me!” she yelled. “He slapped me!”

“Leave each other’s faces alone!” Avad called back. “May I have a moment’s peace, please?”

“If you hadn’t called this boar’s ass here, you would!”

Avad stuck his head in and gave her a sour look. “I just want you to have friends. Play nice.”

She gave him a likewise dirty look, then struggled a bit. “Let me go. You Carja are horrible.”

“I will let you _up,”_ Janeva said, “but you aren’t free to go.” He stood and pulled Ersa up, and she kicked his shin. “Oh, you sure just showed me.”

“Shut up. You aren’t my friend.”

“Thank the Sun for _that._ What are you doing?”

Ersa was arranging Avad’s lyre and picking out the music she wanted him to practice. She glared over her shoulder at the captain. “He gets up whenever he feels like it, eats, then practices this crap you people call music. Then he reads - usually poetry, sometimes history, occasionally thing like military tactics if it’s got enough history or poetry in it. He likes lunching in the Lower Gardens recently, so we’ll go down there for that. He might want to go visit Nasadi and Itamen after lunch - he hasn’t seen them in a few days. Kadaman beat him up yesterday, so _he_ shouldn’t be a problem today, and then he’ll read in the library until dinner. He’ll take a bath after that, and unless Lady Talanih slinks up, will read until he falls asleep.” Janeva’s eyebrows had raised. Ersa tilted her head. “What?”

“You _do_ do more than just sass him, then.” He grinned before Ersa could respond. “The more indispensable you are, the safer you are, eh?”

“... Yes.” Ersa crossed her arms and glared at the closed balcony doors. “Is Balahn Tedolin’s brother?”

That got her a surprised look. “Balahn? Heavens, no. No, Lord Poak is Lord Tedolin’s brother. Why?”

“Avad seems … fond … of him.” Janeva snorted his opinion of that. Avad’s fondness for the man was apparently a well-known source of amusement for everyone, leading Ersa to wonder why she hadn’t heard of him before. “So …?”

“I will not gossip about the prince.”

Well, Toran would. Ersa marched to the door and threw it open. “Toran, what’s up with Avad and Poak?”

“What _isn’t_ up with Avad when Poak is around?” was Kadaman’s cheerful response. Ersa stepped back a bit in surprise. He was sitting at the small table that Avad’s honor guard used, playing some dice game with Toran and Jortyk. He flashed her a charming grin. “I tell you, I have _never_ seen someone hit their knees as fast as Avad does when Poak’s here. I’m surprised he hasn’t broken them, yet. Eh, Toran?”

“I have no comment, Your Radiance.” The humor in his voice did all the commenting for him.

Ersa wanted to punch his stupid face. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m the damn prince,” Kadaman told her with a roll of his eyes. “I go where I please. I came to watch the show.”

Everyone seemed to be grinning. Ersa narrowed her eyes. “What show? Surely you aren’t suddenly interested in your brother’s musical abilities.”

Kadaman laughed. “Hardly. Captain Janeva, so good to see you again. Getting along well with Ersa, are you? I hear you two like to ... spar.”

Janeva had knelt, his fist over his heart. “She is a good opponent, Your Radiance.”

He kept grinning. “I see. Avad seems interested in your … sparring.”

“Oh, by the Forge,” Ersa snapped, “we’re not fucking. Stop insinuating it.”

Rather than surprise or offense, Kadaman reacted with laughter. “Oh? Why not? He seems like he might be your type.”

“I’m not going to fuck people who own me,” Ersa bit out. She couldn’t even touch herself, when she bathed. The thought of anyone else touching her still make her sick to her stomach.

Janeva snorted. “I would never got to bed with a slave.”

“Why not?”

Kadaman sounded curious, and Ersa’s jaw clenched. Janeva shook his head. “A slave can’t really say no, Your Radiance. My men know - if their partner’s life depends on them saying yes, then that partner is off-limits.”

“So, you disagree with slavery?”

“... It is what it is, Your Radiance.” He was picking his words carefully. “I have seen slaves - even ones that have been treated very well - turn on their masters at the first chance. I see it happen far less with paid servants, and only when their masters are particularly cruel.”

“It’s almost as if holding people against their will makes them cranky,” Ersa quipped.

 _“You_ may as well be a free woman, the way Avad lets you run amok,” Kadaman shot back.

She shrugged. “But ‘you may as well be’ isn’t ‘you are.’ The prince is very lenient, and yes, very kind, but I can’t stop being his slave. I can’t go home. I’m not getting paid.” She ignored his raised eyebrow. “If he wanted - if _you_ or your father wanted - I could be put to death at any time, for anything. That doesn’t foster a sense of loyalty.”

Kadaman ran a hand through his platinum-blond hair. “And if you _were_ a free woman, employed here as a servant?”

Ersa thought for a while. Finally, “... That isn’t relevant.”

“Oh, it absolutely is.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be. _If_ I had been employed here, as soon as your father started raiding my people, I would have gone back to the Claim to fight against him.” Ersa put her fists on her hips and glared at Kadaman. “We would end up right back here, with me as a slave.”

“And if the Raids weren’t going on?” Avad asked quietly behind her.

Ersa jumped and spun, and glared at him, too. He and Balahn were leaning on either side of the doorway. “You stop the Raids,” she snapped, “and then we’ll talk about how loyal a servant I would be.”

“Jortyk,” Avad said, moving his gaze past her, “I have taken the liberty of having a plot of land set aside for you and your husband for when you retire, just southeast of Sunstone Rock. It is the least I can do to thank you for not letting Helis kill me all these years.”

The elderly guard just chuckled a little. “Serving you is an honor, Your Radiance, and I thank you for your generosity, but I haven’t yet _found_ a replacement, much less trained him.”

“Oh.” Avad rubbed his chin. “Janeva, would you like to be in my honor guard?”

Ersa nearly screamed, and had to shove her fist into her mouth even as she hopped up and down. She wasn’t sure if she was furious or excited - no, she was definitely furious that Avad hadn’t told her he was going to promote Janeva. Janeva was bossy, and pushy, and insisted on things being done _his_ way. He didn’t understand her relationship with Avad and constantly got under her skin as he tried to force her to be a proper slave. His only saving grace was being a good sparring partner, but she didn’t think that that would make up for having to be around him _all the damn time._

“Your record speaks for itself,” the blithering idiot was continuing as Kadaman just grinned and grinned. “I could stand a little less burying people and leaving them to die for minor infractions, but that can be worked on. Ersa, are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright!” she squeaked out. “Why _him?_ He’s terrible!”

She got a pleasant smile. “But you two get along so well. I thought you would be pleased.”

He and Balahn were trying not to laugh. Ersa stomped, well aware that she was being teased. “Well, I’m not! He slapped me!”

“You provoke him every chance you get.”

“He doesn’t let me eat!”

“He doesn’t let you eat _my_ food. He lets you eat yours.”

“He … he …”

Avad straightened and beckoned. “Come here.” Ersa stomped into his rooms and he closed the door, looking down at her with that same pleasant smile. “Would you be comfortable with any other man straddling you like he was earlier?”

She hadn’t known what she was expecting him to say, but it certainly hadn’t been _that._ Ersa drew back and her jaw dropped. Avad waited patiently. “I don’t - um - I don’t think he’s actually a …”

“Only men can be soldiers.” Ersa crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed them, not looking at Avad. Then she turned and hurried over to where she’d thrown her vest last. It covered her and was a comforting weight. “I need to find a replacement for Jortyk, and the sooner I do it, the more likely it is that _I_ will be able to choose who he is, not my father. Janeva meets and surpasses all the official qualifications, and more importantly, he ensures that none of his men abuse anyone. I am not asking you to be his friend; I want to make sure you won’t be uncomfortable with him around.”

Ersa scoffed and sat on the chaise, pulling her knees to her chest. “We _just_ went over how I have no say in anything in my life. What would you do if I said I didn’t want him to guard you?”

“Call you a fool,” Avad told her flatly, “and offer him the job anyway. Do you have any _actual_ complaints against him? I promise, you can still keep being so … Oseram.”

That made Ersa laugh, and to her horror, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. The idiot was actually concerned about _her_ comfort around _his_ guards. “No one’s going to believe this, when I get home,” she coughed out. “A brainless prince treating his slave better than himself, making sure they’re comfortable with his guards … If _you_ were king, we’d have beaten you by now.”

“If _I_ were king,” Avad told her quietly as he crouched in front of her, “there wouldn’t have been a need. No sacrifices would have been made.”

He was looking at her with such pained honesty that Ersa was throwing herself at him before she could think, hugging him tightly around the neck. He rocked back a little and made a soft noise of surprise, but she was pushing herself up and stalking to the door before he could really react. She threw it open with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. _“Fine,”_ she groaned, “you can be in his honor guard, _I guess. Ugh.”_ Avad’s skin was soft, and he’d smelled incredible. Her heart was pounding. She glared at Janeva and kicked his shin. “But we need to lay some ground rules. First, I do what I want. Second, I do what I want. Third? _I do what I want._ Is that clear? I don’t want to hear any ‘No, don’t eat his food,’ or ‘Stop jumping on the bed,’ or ‘Don’t call the prince a boar’s ass,’ do you understand? And my _name_ is _Ersa._ Don’t call me ‘slave.’ Is that clear?”

She stopped short of declaring that _she_ was in charge, not Avad, but she needn’t have shown such restraint. Avad just laughed and clapped Janeva on the shoulder. “Basically, to be in my honor guard, you have to follow Ersa’s rules. Well?”

He seemed a little dazed, but nodded and bowed deeply. “I … I would be honored, Your Radiance. Of course I accept. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ersa told him airily. She could feel Avad behind her. She was starting to shake. “Now everyone leave me alone - I’m tired. I’m taking a nap.”

There was a soft ‘Leave her’ as she turned and walked quickly back into the room, closing the door and then running and diving into the bed, huddling under the covers and gasping for air as hot tears fell from her eyes. She was full and empty at the same time, and it was different from the usual bouts of panic that she got when a man touched her. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. She wanted to hug Avad again - she ached with the sudden need to be held. But she also wanted to claw at him and run away and hide. He was soft, and gentle, and kind, and if she’d been a paid servant then nothing would have caused her loyalty to him to waver, and she was certain that she was losing her mind. She was almost ready to leave. She had to figure out what to do about Gend and Marda, first, but then she was free to pay Dretal and get the hell out of this accursed place. It was driving her as mad as Jiran. She huddled in the bed and shuddered, and then opened her eyes to the cool evening breeze with a gasp. Avad was sitting at his desk and looked up, but didn’t turn around.

“We are going to Brightmarket tomorrow, to see Father off to Sunfall. We will stay for two days, then come back for the festivities. I’m not certain how long Poak will want to stay in Meridian, but while he’s here, you will stay with the others downstairs. It’s not a punishment by any means.”

Ersa sat up and rubbed her eyes. There was a tray of sweets on the bed next to her. She shoved two in her mouth before speaking. “Just how hot for this guy _are_ you?”

Her bluntness made Avad laugh. “Ah … well, Poak is … he is very … well.” He coughed. “I just … I want him,” he finished a little plaintively.

Ersa groaned and covered her head again. “How old are you? Fifteen?”

“I’m twenty-six,” was his slightly huffy answer.

“Really? Because you have about as much self-control as a fifteen-year-old.”

“Well, you haven’t met Poak, and I have. You don’t understand.”

“Yeah, definitely fifteen. Does Talanih approve?”

“Talanih has no say in who I bed.” Avad seemed pleased. “Even if she were my wife, she would have no real say in it, either. Women are for children, men are for relationships, to paraphrase a particularly odious mindset amongst the Carja. I wouldn’t marry a woman for whom it would be a problem, in any case. Not that I could convince Poak to stay in Meridian. He hates the city.”

Ersa propped herself up on one arm. “Even with a prince as his lover?”

“Even with,” Avad said ruefully. “Believe me, I have done everything I can to convince him to. He remains unswayed by all of my charms and efforts.”

She rolled over and stretched. “Well, all the better for me. I’d have to give up my side of the bed.” She stared up at the ceiling and bit her lip. “I need help getting Gend and Marda out of here,” she finally murmured. “I can’t leave them behind. Gend can hardly get up in the mornings. They can’t ---”

“You would be here for at least another year if we got them out.” Avad’s interruption was nothing but gentle. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll do anything you want me to do.”

Avad stopped writing and was still for a very, very long time. When he finally turned around, Ersa kept her gaze on the ceiling, even when he got up and knelt next to her on the floor. “I am _absolutely positive_ that I just _completely_ misunderstood your words and tone of voice. It _almost_ sounded like you were offering to have sex with me in order to free your friends. Which is impossible, because I believe that _very clear boundaries_ have been set in that regard.” Ersa was quiet. Avad sighed. “Let me figure out how to get Gend and Marda out. You concentrate on breaking Janeva in.”

“I was just going to offer to cook for you.”

He stood up and laughed a little. “Oh. My mistake. I have work to do - you get some rest.”

After a while Ersa got up and went to soak in the bath. She didn’t leave until she heard Avad go to bed. She sat on the balcony after that and stared out over the mesa. She didn’t know why she’d said that. Fear that he might tell her he wouldn’t help Gend and Marda, for sure. And maybe … maybe a little curiosity, about him. And sex. Ersa buried her face in her knees. She _knew_ what sex was like - she hadn’t been a virgin when she’d been captured. She’d been starting to think that she wouldn’t ever want it again, but lately her body had been telling her otherwise. It was both exhilarating and frightening. Her body and mind didn’t seem to know when she was in danger and when she was safe. Which was a sign of progress, she supposed. A frustrating sign, but a sign nonetheless. She stayed outside until she started shivering, and then went to bed and listened to Avad’s even breathing until she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you don't think avad and balahn are bffs, get outta my face


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a mini-vacation, yaaaaaaay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at updating. Have nearly 9k words to make up for it.

“Ersa.”

She didn’t move.

“Ersa.”

Silence.

The mattress shook a bit. _“Ersa. Get up.”_

_“Whaaaaat?”_ she snapped, burrowing deeper into the covers. “I’m sleeping! Go away! It’s not even dawn!”

“And we need to get ready to go,” was Avad’s impatient reply. “Get up. We’re waiting on _you.”_

He was pulling at the covers and Ersa yanked them back over herself, cocooning herself in them. “Ugh, is this all so you can get fucked? Is that it? Because ---”

“Father will be ready in about five minutes. You don’t want him to know that you’re the reason we’re running late.” She sat up, bleary-eyed and glaring, and ran her fingers through her hair. Avad reached out with a damp cloth and ran it over her head, smoothing her hair as she jerked away and threw the blankets off. “Oh, stop it. Let me help.”

“No. ‘M tired.” He was handing her her uniform and she yawned at him. “Why’re we leaving so early?”

Avad stood a little over an arm’s-length away and made shooing motions at her. “Because he wants to make Sunfall before sunrise. Come on, you can eat in the litter.”

“Sunfall before sunrise, Sunfall before sunrise, Sunfall before sunrise … Your obsession with the sun is stupid.” There was one bite of meat left on the tray on his desk and she swiped it. She trailed after him as he led her downstairs, taking a newly-installed elevator. She watched him and his honor guard tense with the jolt of movement and faint clanging of metal from half-closed eyes and grinned before thumping the metal grating. They all visibly jumped. “Solid Oseram work, this thing. It’ll last a thousand years. Nervous?”

She stomped a bit and made the small metal box creak. Avad reached out and grabbed a handrail. He looked a little pale. “Please don’t.”

Ersa stomped again. “What? It won’t fall - it’s Oseram work.”

_“Please. Don’t.”_

She shrugged and examined her nails. “Fine, but I am _incredibly_ offended that you don’t trust Oseram workmanship.”

“The workmanship is not the problem,” Avad muttered. “Being in a small box hundreds of feet above the ground _is.”_ He cleared his throat. “Now, be quiet until my father leaves, unless he speaks to you. No snide remarks, no sarcasm - nothing. Alright?”

“You don’t have to tell _me_ that,” Ersa muttered. She ran her fingers through her hair again. “I need a haircut. I hate long hair.”

“It looks good on you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, wow, that completely changed my opinion on long hair. Let me grow it to my waist, shall I? Put flowers in it? If it pleases Your Radiance.”

“All I did was wake you up,” Avad grumbled. “I hardly deserve this treatment.”

“This is _exactly_ what you deserve.” She gave him a smile that was more of a baring of her teeth. “I’m certain that Poak will kiss your wounded ego better.”

That brightened Avad, and he nodded. “Well, _something_ will get kissed, for certain.” Ersa made a disgusted noise and he laughed. “What, you didn’t get that far in Eloquent Tatavid’s ---”

“I wasn’t reading your stupid sex book!” she snapped. “I don’t want to know!”

“Look, the _Treatise on the Tender Arts_ is ---”

“Stupid! Just like you!”

“--- by far the most precise and detailed exploration of ---”

Ersa covered her ears. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

“--- loving and erotic techniques ever written. It is full of ---”

“This is gross. You’re gross. Stop it.”

“--- useful guides not just for sex, but for relationships, as well, and is ---”

“Toran, kill him!” Toran laughed. Avad continued to describe how useful the book was in teaching about relationships and sex until the elevator got to the proper floor, and held his hand up to let Ersa compose herself before gesturing for Toran to open the door. “I hate you,” she muttered as they walked to the waiting litters.

“You deserved it,” he muttered back, then knelt and swept Itamen up in his arms as the child ran up to him, laughing. “Itamen! Brother! Are you excited for today?”

“Mother says we can swim.”

It was the most that Ersa had ever heard the shy boy say. She blinked a little and watched Avad try to eat his hand. “Wait, Itamen - you must let me take a bite. I’m hungry.”

Itamen squealed a bit and shook his head, holding his hands close to his chest as he laughed. “No! Swim!”

“Well, what if I have a bite of your finger, and then we swim? Please?” Itamen lifted his hand, then jerked it away with another laugh. Avad affected an overly-affronted look and growled at him, catching his tiny fist and gumming it. Itamen laughed and laughed and then flung himself over Avad’s shoulder with a giggle and stared at Ersa with suddenly-wide eyes. She stared back. Avad bounced the child a bit. “Are you dead?”

Itamen didn’t answer, just kept staring at Ersa. She kept staring back. Not only had Avad told her to keep quiet, she wasn’t used to interacting with children. He didn’t seem the sort to enjoy sword fighting. Avad turned a bit more so he could see what Itamen was looking at.

“Oh. That’s Ersa, Itamen. You remember Ersa. She’s my fr--- my servant. Remember?” Itamen pushed himself up and turned, reaching out for Nasadi. Avad tickled him a little. “Hey … Itamen, Ersa won’t hurt you.”

The boy kept reaching for the queen, who was directing some servants in loading a cart while holding the back of her hand to her mouth. “Mother …”

“No, Mother is busy.” Itamen whined a little. Avad held him on his hip and tapped his nose. Somehow he’d gotten some wrapped sweets, and held one up. “Do you want a candy?” Itamen stared at it for a few moments before taking it, and Avad kissed his forehead while he unwrapped it. “There we go. Candies are good, aren’t they? I like them. Did you like my birthing day present?” The Carja had an odd habit of celebrating the day they were born every year. Itamen had just turned four. Ersa had avoided the festivities because Jiran had been there, and had studiously avoided all of Avad’s requests to know when her own birthing day was. She honestly could only remember the time of year - she had been a spring baby.

“Are you ready yet?” Everyone stiffened as Jiran and Helis walked up. Itamen hid his face in Avad’s shoulder and started shaking. Ersa edged a bit more behind him and lowered her gaze. Only Nasadi dared approach him, and she nodded.

“Yes, Your Luminance. Everything is ---”

“Your Radiance! Your Radiance!” Everyone turned as a dark-skinned, dark-haired harem girl skipped up with a silk sachet thrown over one shoulder. Her chest bounced as much as her curls, and she slid to a stop right in front of Jiran, looking up at him coyly through her lashes and twisting as demurely as her sheer silk dress would allow for. “I’m ready, Your Radiance. I want to come, too.”

Jiran and Helis exchanged glances. “I said nothing about this. I gave no permission.”

That got a well-practiced pout as the girl, who was probably around Erend’s age, reached out to touch the stylized bronze sun hanging from Jiran’s broad, well-defined chest. “But we didn’t get to finish playing,” she tried, “and I haven’t been to Sunfall in _so_ long.”

Jiran wasn’t swayed. He frowned down at her, and Ersa wondered how she could be so fearless. “The queen is coming with me.”

_“With_ the little prince,” the girl told him. She stood on her toes and her lips couldn’t even brush against Jiran’s jaw. “Who will fuss. You want to be able to concentrate on your work, do you not, Your Luminance?”

Ersa looked at Nasadi in faint horror and wondered how long it would be until the concubine was punished for being so rude and dismissive to the queen. Nasadi merely took Itamen from Avad and hugged him close as Jiran turned his attention to her. After a few moments, he slowly nodded and the harem girl grinned.

“... You have a point. Nasadi, you and Itamen will stay with the princes. I require silence these next few days. Into the litter with you, girl.” That got a giggle and a wiggle. She deliberately stuck her rear in the air as she was climbing in, and shook it. She jingled.

Jiran gave her a slap and she laughed again before sticking her head out of the litter’s window. “Oh, Lord Helis, hurry!” Then Ersa watched as she caught Nasadi’s eye and winked. Nasadi nodded back before turning to Avad and Kadaman’s litter. “Shall he play with us, as well, Your Luminance?”

Kadaman jumped forward to help Nasadi in with his most charming smile as Helis garbled something, face flushed with either embarrassment or, more probably, anger at the concubine’s impertinent teasing. “My lady, it is _excellent_ to have you with us. Come, come. Itamen, do you want to sit with me? I’m more fun than Avad.”

“... Is Father angry?” the boy whispered.

Kadaman laughed. “Of course not, brother. And if he is, Hela will make him feel better.”

“Hela gave me candy yesterday.”

“Oh, did she? She never gives _me_ anything but lip.” There wasn’t going to be any room in the litter for Ersa, and sh definitely wouldn’t be fed on the way. She would have been grumpier about it, if she hadn’t been admiring Hela for jumping in to keep Nasadi and Itamen away from Jiran. It was good to know that the queen didn’t share _that_ much of her husband’s violent tendencies.

Avad touched her elbow gently. “Ersa, there isn’t ---”

“--- room for me, I know,” she cut him off before jerking her chin toward the litter. “Go on, get in. I can walk - but I want a piggy-back ride later.”

Kadaman stuck his head out of the litter with a laugh. “Trust me, for the next few weeks, _no one_ is riding Avad but Poak.” Then he ducked back in as Avad, red as a beet, whirled and garbled something vaguely threatening at him. “Come, come, get in! Tedolin and the others will meet us there. Will you have Ersa dress in silks? I want to see that.”

“I would rather _not_ be murdered in my sleep,” was Avad’s tired response as Ersa bristled at the thought of not only having to dress in Carja clothing, but having to dress in _delicate_ Carja clothing. She stomped alongside the litter and hoped Avad could hear how unhappy the thought made her.

There was a beat of silence, then, “... You could just not let her sleep with you.” 

“Shut up,” the middle prince grumbled. “Itamen, do you want me to teach you how to fish?”

Kadaman snorted. “You can’t fish.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t. You cried the last time you tried.”

“I was eight the last time, and I know how to fish - I read about it. I may not be that practiced, but I know how to do everything. Books, Kadaman. They’re this amazing new thing everyone’s doing. We’re all ‘reading’ now. It’s fun - you ought to try it.” There was the solid smack of flesh against flesh. _“Ow!”_

“I get enough lip from Hela - I don’t need any from _you.”_

Avad laughed. “Oh, dear. Did she turn you down _again?_ Why do you keep after her? You know she’s never going to---” Nasadi coughed. “… wrestle with you.”

That got a snort from the elder prince. _“Royal concubines,_ Avad. They’re the best at wrestling. They get _years_ of training. _Years.”_

Ersa and Avad let out the same disgusted noise. “And you’ve wrestled with the other concubines, then?”

“No. I only want Hela. That reminds me, didn’t you and Talanah wrestle once?”

Avad spluttered. _“Absolutely **not.**_ What gave you that idea? Of course we didn’t.”

Ersa bit her lip and raised both eyebrows. He _had_ gone to bed with the elusive Talanah Khane Padish, then. Kadaman was laughing. “So she told you no.”

“We have never discussed it, because I am not a _pig_ like _you,”_ was the prim response.

The elder prince was almost howling. “Was this before or after she decked you for asking?”

_“We didn’t do anything!”_

Kadaman sounded amazed. “How do you _ever_ manage to find people to wrestle with? Do you _always_ let them come to you? You live a sad life.”

“I don’t - blast it, I’m not talking to you any more.” Avad twitched open the curtain that covered the litter’s window and scowled out. They were crossing the bridge into the city. “There are aqueducts all beneath the city,” he murmured after a few minutes. Ersa blinked at him. He grinned and handed her some bits of dried meat, bread, and cheese, which she snatched and ate as quickly as possible. She was getting too used to regular meals. “This road leads to the quarry if you go straight, down into the Maizelands if you go right, and to Brightmarket if you go left. With all of us there for the next couple of days, it will be heavily guarded. _Heavily,”_ he repeated with a pointed look. Ersa ignored him. “I mean it.”

He was trying to warn her to not run away. Ersa snorted. “Yes, _mother,”_ she grumbled.

He frowned, his royal feelings clearly hurt, and closed the curtain. “I’m telling Mimaw that you’re all horrible to me. Except for Itamen and Nasadi.”

“Mimaw likes me best,” she reminded him.

He grumbled under his breath, and it wasn’t until they got to Brightmarket that anyone spoke again. Ersa held the door open and he nodded. “Thank you.” Then his face split into a grin and he walked forward, holding his arms out a bit. “Ah, Lord Poak! How was the trip here?” Ersa continued to hold the door for Nasadi and the other princes, but whipped her head around to try to get a look at Avad’s lover. She couldn’t see through the group of servants and general hustle.

“Well, thank you, Your Radiance,” was the measured baritone reply. “We made good time. And yours?”

She lost the conversation and grumbled a bit. Kadaman had disappeared, but she could hear him trying to flirt with Hela, and she could hear Hela having absolutely none of it.

“Go kiss a boar,” the girl snapped.

Kadaman laughed. “Hela, don’t leave me like this. You know I need you.”

“You _need_ to get castrated. How many bastards do you think you have, now?”

“Only the ones I intend to put in _you._ I _will_ be king one day, you know, and you _will_ be my concubine then.”

She guffawed as she rounded the corner of the litter. “The day you are crowned is the day I quit, _Your Radiance.”_

Kadaman was right behind her, reaching out for her hips even as she slapped his hands away, laughing at each little irritated huff she let out. “Hela. Please. I need you, Hela. I’m in pain. Here, feel.” He turned her around and pulled her against him, one hand at the flare of her hips to press them against his and the other grabbing at her hands as she pouted and beat at his chest. She wasn’t struggling too much and most of seemed designed to rub against Kadaman as much as possible, so Ersa didn’t step in.

“Ugh! Then go see a healer! I’ll scream! You, slave! Stab him!”

Ersa held her hands up and backed up. “Sorry, I have even less authority than you do.” She hit someone and turned quickly, coming face-to-chest with a slender, dark-skinned man dressed in red and purple silk, kinky hair twisted into a few loose rows and pulled into a small ponytail at the back of his head, the sides shaved clean. They looked each other up and down and his eyebrow quirked up. “What?” she asked flatly.

“Ah, Ersa, there you are.” Avad turned and gave her a brilliant smile, one arm draped casually over the man’s shoulders. “Ersa, this is Poak. Poak, this is Ersa, my slave that I wrote you about.” 

Ersa blinked and raised both eyebrows at the prince. “You’re _writing_ to people about me?”

She got a bemused looked as he nodded. “Yes. Why?” As if it was the most natural thing in the world to talk about one’s slaves in letters to one’s lover.

Poak didn’t appear to be a man of many words, or very affectionate, or to have noticed the crown prince hanging on him. He looked Ersa up and down with a critical eye, and she glared back at him. It wasn’t until Avad brushed his fingers against his cheek that he seemed to notice the prince. “You have slaves, now, Your Radiance? Not servants?”

Avad cleared his throat. “Well, as has been pointed out, that is … it’s a fact,” he finished flatly. Ersa snorted. Then he perked up. “Oh, but let us see Father off, and then we can ---”

Jiran himself whipped around the corner and snatched Hela from Kadaman, glaring at the group. Everyone jumped and lowered their gazes, but after a moment, he just huffed. “Ah, Poak. I thought I heard Avad hitting his knees.” Avad sucked his breath in through his teeth, but said nothing. “And how is your wife?”

Poak bowed deeply. “Good, Your Luminance, thank you. Looking forward to being back at court, though it won’t be nearly as pleasurable with you absent. We are expecting our first child, as well.” Ersa kept her gaze on the ground, but her eyes flew wide.

That brought a twisting of Jiran’s lips. “Oh, really? May it be a boy, then, that you might bed my son forever in peace. Would that he had been born a girl - he would have been more useful to me, as a woman.”

Poak inclined his head with a slight smile. “Ah, Your Luminance, but then _I_ would have no use for him.”

Ersa kept stealing glances at Avad, wondering how he could be so calm in the face of his father’s clear distaste for him, wondering how his lover could be so calm. Then again, Jiran was terrifying at the best of times. The king threw his head back and laughed. Some of the tenseness in the group eased. He loosened his grip on Hela and patted her rear.

“Go on, girl, onto the ferry with you. Kadaman prefers the city whores, anyway.”

“Royalty by birth, classless trash by nature,” Kadaman conceded cheerfully. “Well, safe trip, Father. We’ll make sure the Sundom doesn’t burn down without you. Hela, my bed is always open to you.”

He called it as she boarded the ferry, and she turned back to him with a sweet smile. “Oh, thank you, Your Radiance, but I don’t sleep in dung heaps.” She stuck her tongue out as everyone but Kadaman had a good laugh at his expense.

As soon as the ferry was safely out of earshot, Ersa turned to Poak with a beaming grin. “So, _Lord Poak!_ I didn’t know you had a _wife, too._ His Radiance never mentioned her. Where is she?”

Poak just stared at her and Ersa kept grinning. Finally, he turned his head just slightly to Avad, who was glaring at her. “You said she was wilful - I didn’t think she would be _this_ impertinent.”

“My apologies, Poak. She won’t say another word _unless she wants to sleep in the slave pits.”_ He stressed the last part as Ersa opened her mouth, and she closed it in surprise. He was never that firm, nor that threatening.

Poak shook his head and raised one hand to briefly touch the tips of his fingers to Avad’s cheek. He never took his eyes off of Ersa. “That won’t be necessary. I have … grown accustomed to Oseram ways.”

Everyone blinked a little. “Have you?” Avad asked. He leaned into the brief physical contact, but was frowning.

“Oh, yes. Walta insisted on new slaves a few months ago. She is … quite enamored. Ah, here they are.”

He hadn’t turned, so how he knew anyone was behind him was a mystery to Ersa, but the startled voice that boomed out wasn’t. _“Ersa Freebooter?”_

She immediately started hopping up and down in excitement and darted around the stupid prince and his stupid lover to jump up and down in front of the mountain of a man who had walked up with a pregnant Carja noblewoman. _“Denund Foregeman?_ What are _you_ doing here? What happened to Forgehome?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I'm taking a summer holiday. What do you _think_ happened?”

Ersa winced a little, but wasn’t deterred. She punched his arm with a grin. “When did you get captured? I hadn’t heard anything. Not that I get told the latest court gossip---” It was a lie; Avad was a vicious gossip because he had no life outside of the palace. “--- but … Oh, sparks and bolts, what about Belda?”

Denund gestured behind him. “Oh, she’s here, too, preparing the rooms. Not a lot got … Well, we got out who we could. It was more a slave raid than anything else, really. I caught my lady’s eye,” and the woman beside him, one hand proprietarily on his arm as the Carja all stared at them, narrowed her eyes at Ersa, “and his lordship was so kind as to purchase Belda, as well.”

Ersa pursed her lips and shook her head. “I’m … I’m sorry. But I’m glad you’re alright. Have you heard anything about Erend? Is _he_ alright?”

That got a laugh from Denund and a faint snarl from Walta. “Oh, he’s alive and well, as of four months ago. Still kicking and screaming about you being gone. But look at _you!_ Owned by the prince himself. Only the best for you, even in slavery, eh?”

Oh, right. The prince. Ersa whipped around and put her hand on Denund’s forearm. “My friends are coming over to play.”

_“Excuse_ me?” Walta sputtered.

Avad just laughed and shook his head. “Ah, well, that might be ---”

Ersa narrowed her eyes at him. “You said you wanted me to have friends. These are my friends. Janeva, we’re no longer friends.” The guard snorted faintly.

“Calm down, woman,” Poak told his wife evenly as she started to speak again. “No one is taking them away. You _do_ allow her free reign - I thought Kadaman was joking when he wrote.”

Ersa threw her hands up in the air. “Why is _everyone_ talking about me? Stop it! You’re weird!”

Avad was shaking his head again. “Even _if_ I were one for beating slaves, Ersa would die before she broke.” He was looking between Walta and Denund, then smiled brightly before taking the noblewoman’s hand and kissing it. “But my lady, congratulations on your pregnancy. May you have the blessings of a boy. I hope the trip wasn’t too stressful?”

Walta preened a bit, then looked up - and up - at Denund, stroking his arm posessively. His smile stayed, but his expression otherwise went blank. Ersa looked at Avad sharply. He was ignoring her. “Of course. I insisted on new slaves as soon as the child was confirmed. Denund and Belda have been absolutely indispensable. Isn’t he _marvelous?”_ She beamed up at the man and stroked his arm again.

Marvelous, indeed. Walta’s desire was palpable. Ersa’s gut twisted. Avad just nodded. “Well, you certainly look like you live up to your name, Denund Forgeman.” He turned and gestured to the large house behind them. “Ah, shall we? I believe Lord Lahavis has once again been kind enough to lend us his home.”

Walta moved closer, if it were possible, to Denund. “With extra guards, I hope, Your Radiance. I hear the rebellion against your father is growing stronger.”

She jumped a little when Kadaman came up, slung his arm over her shoulder, and gave her protruding stomach a few hesitant taps, as if the child inside were a beast that would leap out at him at any moment. “It’s a largely ineffective movement that won’t gain any results. Is it awake? I want to feel it move. Make it move.”

Walta heaved a long sigh and let Denund go, and Ersa popped up on his other side as soon as he dropped back behind his mistress and the prince. She looked up at him with furrowed brows. “Denund, are you ---”

“I’m fine,” he responded quickly.

“But she ---”

The huge man rubbed the arm that Walta had been latched onto and shook his head. His thick muscles pressed against the seams of his outfit, but Walta probably liked looking at them. “Leave it, Ersa. Belda and I are safe and well-taken-care-of. They don’t abuse us. That’s all I care about. What would _you_ do to keep your people safe?”

“... Let a lot worse happen to me,” Ersa murmured as she stared at Avad’s back. He had linked arms with Poak, talking excitedly about a book he was reading. Denund looked down at her and she shook her head sharply, then grinned up at him. “But, the princes let me kill them, so all’s well. I guess the rebellion _isn’t_ going very well?”

The blacksmith shrugged. “I hear very little about it. Lord Poak isn’t a fool - he doesn’t let us know what’s going on if he can help it.”

“Ooh, he’s handsome _and_ smart,” Ersa simpered, her voice full of sarcasm. “No _wonder_ Avad wants his dick so bad. Well, they’d be fools to try to kill the princes - those two idiots are our best hope at ending this massacre.”

“One can also hope that the Derangement ends soon,” was Nasadi’s almost-whisper behind them.

Ersa nearly screamed as she and Denund turned to the queen and youngest prince. She was following close behind them, four guards behind her, Itamen held tight in her arms. Denund started to speak but Ersa just shrugged. “I call them idiots all the time. They don’t care.” It would be _so easy_ to run at night. She could follow the lake’s edge, or swim across if she had to - but more guards appeared as they approached the house, with enough supplies for a small garrison and that Balahn man directing them.

“Nor do I,” the queen told her. Whether it was a jab at her secondsons or just a simple fact, Ersa couldn’t tell, so she turned back around and smacked one fist into her hand as she thought.

“Well, let’s get settled, then do absolutely nothing at all.”

_“You_ may be able to do that,” Denund muttered. _“Some_ of us have … duties.”

“Balahn!” Ersa called. The captain half-turned with raised eyebrows, then furrowed them and pursed his lips. She waved cheerfully. “Avad says I get to go home! I need supplies for ten days and three people!”

“I did not!” Avad called from the other end of the courtyard.

“How is your mouth not full yet?” Kadaman yelled back. There was laughter amongst the small group of nobles he was surrounded by, and Ersa held her hands out in confusion.

“I thought you Carja didn’t care about your partner’s gender.”

Kadaman threw his head back and laughed as she stomped up to him. Not that she was upset; she was just in the habit of stomping to annoy everyone she could. “We don’t. Why would we?”

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head back as dramatically as possible. “Well, you all give Avad nothing but crap about it.”

That had everyone laughing harder, and Kadaman clapped her shoulder, which only made her stumble a little. “Oh, _Prince_ Avad having male lovers is hardly the issue - the _issue_ is that my brother prefers a far more … _passive_ role in sex than befits a man of his station. _That_ is what we laugh at.”

Ersa looked the group over, then shrugged. “Oh.” She wriggled out of his grasp and rubbed at her shoulders with a scowl. “Don’t touch me.”

“Come drink with us tonight,” the elder prince said, as if she hadn’t just spoken. “Avad will be busy. You’ll have nothing to do. Ah, Lahavis! Many thanks for the use of your home. And Lady Elida! You’re more beautiful every time I see you.” The young girl - barely into her teens - ducked behind her father shyly as Kadaman grinned at her.

“It is an honor, of course, Your Radiance. Ah, this way. The servants should have everything settled, by now. Elida, darling, go with your mother and sister. Your aunt is waiting for you.”

“Marry me when you’re older!” Kadaman told her cheerfully as she hurried off. “Nasadi, are you alright?”

The queen was holding her hand to her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut, taking long, deep breaths. She nodded. “Mm-hm. Itamen needs a nap.”

“I want to swim,” the tiny prince protested.

Kadaman took his brother in his arms, then put him on his shoulders. “We’ll eat first, then nap, then swim. I promise. Ersa, take Nasadi inside.”

A house servant stepped up to lead the way, and as soon as they were in the room that Nasadi was to use, she sank into a chair and held one hand to her forehead. She looked queasy, and Ersa tilted her head. “Uh, so … I’ll just … go …”

“No,” the queen whispered. She didn’t look at Ersa. “The herbs that you slaves take. Do you have any?”

“Herbs?” Ersa frowned.

Nasadi nodded and rested one hand on her lower abdomen. “Yes. The monthly herbs. Do you have any?”

“Uh …” The queen was pregnant, or thought she was. “They, uh, they don’t give us a supply. They just give us the tea once a month, and that was last week.” The queen didn’t want to be pregnant. The queen wanted Ersa’s help. She squeezed her hand into a fist and started to quietly cry. Ersa’s heart tugged a bit.

“If I bear a girl, he will have me sacrificed,” Nasadi whispered. “Please help me.”

Ersa cursed her soft heart. Walta was already pregnant, so she wouldn’t have any. Avad wouldn’t have brought any. Kadaman might have, unless he considered preventing or ending a pregnancy to be the woman’s responsibility, which he probably did - he would ask too many questions, at any rate. The servants would gossip. There might be a merchant in town that sold them. Balahn … She nodded. “Yeah, give me some time. I’ll find some.” She turned and scurried out of the room, ducking between Avad and Poak and running off, ignoring him when he called out to ask where she was going. It felt good to stretch her legs once she was outside, and she vaulted over a soldier with a laugh, both hands on his back as he bent over to pick up a satchett. There was a cry of surprise, but she made a beeline towards Balahn and skidded to a stop in front of him. “Hey! Where does a gal get that tea to induce her menses around here?”

He stopped giving directions to his troops and turned to her with a puzzled look. “Excuse me?”

Ersa shrugged. “Well, you know, maybe I don’t wanna get knocked up while I’m here, right? Come on, will a merchant have them?”

He looked unsure. “You get the tea each month, don’t you?”

“Last week, but trust me, you want to take it as soon as possible, otherwise it really hurts. Avad will get upset if I cry.”

“No, take it to the servant’s quarters,” Balahn told a soldier before turning back to her and looking her up and down suspiciously. “I doubt _anything_ could make _you_ cry. Does the prince know that you’re planning on having sex with someone?”

She made a disgusted face. “That’s none of his business. Besides, he’s busy with _Pooooak._ Come on, help a gal out.”

Balahn paused for a moment, then nodded and took her by the arm, walking towards town. “Did you know that you’re a terrible liar?” he asked after a few minutes.

Ersa shrugged. “Look, just tell me where I can get the herbs.”

“Who wants them?”

“I do.”

“This doesn’t have to do with the queen feeling ill, does it? Because you walked her to her room and then ran out awfully fast.” He was looking some fruit over critically, sniffing at it before putting it back.

Ersa wanted to kick him for being so observant. “No, not at all.”

Balahn snorted. “Do you know what will happen if Nasadi gives birth to a girl?” Ersa shrugged and tried to pull her arm back, but he tightened his grip and turned to her with pursed lips that may or may not been some form of a smile. “At this point, the king may well have her executed for it.” He pulled a small bag out of a pouch at his hips and pressed it into her hands, not taking his eyes off of hers. “Here. We wouldn’t want any little Ersas running around. One of you is more than enough.”

Ersa looked down at the bag, then back up at him. “And you just carry this with you?”

Balahn grinned. “Well, I don’t want any little _me’s_ running around, either, and it’s more acceptable for a man to be caught with those than it is for a woman. We wouldn’t want anyone thinking women actually ever had sex outside of marriage.”

“Perish the thought.” Ersa slipped the bag into her tunic as they headed back toward the house. She could get in trouble, if Balahn felt like it, but he seemed genuinely concerned about Nasadi’s well-being.

“Do you have any children?”

She laughed. “Oh, goodness, no. I’m a soldier. We can’t get married. Well, the men can, but a pregnant soldier is a useless soldier. My choice was to be a foregewife or a soldier, and I chose to be a soldier. What about you? You seem a bit more noble than your men.”

Balahn had finally let her arm go, and laughed. “Yes, technically, I’m a noble. I’m _also_ the fifth of seven sons, so I won’t be inheriting much any time soon, so I don't have much to offer a wife. I might marry in the future, but for now, a soldier’s life suits me.” Everything seemed to have been sorted out while they had taken their stroll, and he gestured to the house. “Go on. Be careful.”

Ersa hurried back in and knocked gently on Nasadi’s door. “My lady?”

It opened almost immediately and Nasadi pulled her in, looked up and down the hall, then closed and locked it before turning back to her. “If you tell anyone, I will have you executed.”

She looked the poor woman up and down and raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t going to. I could get in trouble for this - I _would_ get in trouble for this.” Nasadi just stared at her, chest heaving. She looked like she hadn’t stopped crying. Ersa sighed and pulled the bag of herbs out. “Have you taken this before?”

The queen shook her head and pulled Ersa over to where a small brazier was heating a teapot. “No. How much will it hurt?”

“If you’re far enough along to be getting sick, it’s going to hurt a lot. A _lot,”_ Ersa stressed. “I’ve had to take it before. It’s not as bad as childbirth, but not by much - it's far worse than normal cramps. How many menses have you missed?”

Nasadi rubbed at her face. “Just one. It should have come last week. Jiran doesn’t pay attention to when I bleed - he never has - so he doesn’t suspect anything.”

Ersa hummed as she added the herbs to the water. Something niggled at the back of her mind. “Hela was pretty keen on going with him.”

There were voices in the hall and they both froze, breathing shallowly, then the voices moved on. Nasadi snorted. “Hela has always been good to me. She knows when I … require her talents.”

“... How old are you?” Ersa asked softly.

Nasadi sighed. “Twenty-eight.” She smiled slightly at the noise Ersa made. “Everyone expected Jiran to marry me to Kadaman or Avad. He used to carry me on his shoulders, when I was a child. _I_ thought I would be wife to one of the princes … But my family is known for producing strong males, and that’s what Jiran wanted.” She cleared her throat. “It isn’t so bad. If I do as he says and keep to myself, he leaves me alone for the most part. I was chosen to bear children, not be his companion or … pleasure him.”

Ersa didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything, and Nasadi seemed content to let the conversation die. Once the tea had brewed to the proper strength, she poured it into a small mug and handed it to the queen. “The pain will start tonight. I don’t know when the bleeding will start.”

Nasadi nodded and held her hand tightly as she took a deep breath, then downed the tea in one gulp. She gagged at the bitterness and heat, but Ersa poured the rest and nodded, and she drank that, too. “You will come back when it starts,” she finally said. It was worded as an order but came out as a plaintive question, a plea to not be left alone.

Ersa nodded and stood up. “Yeah. Just call for me.” She waited until Nasadi had lain down, then quietly left and closed the door behind her. She had no idea where the servants were to stay. No one was around to tell her. She walked quietly through the large house and listened. She could hear Walta in one room, talking to either Denund or a servant - and after a brief pause to register both her breathless voice and the faint rhythmic creaking of the bed, it had to have been Denund. In another, Avad was still going on about that stupid philosopher he liked. Hopefully Poak would tell him the man's views were as scatterbrained as Avad's, because the prince didn't listen to _her_ when she told him the truth. She had just helped the queen have an abortion. She would die for it, if she was found out. She didn’t think Nasadi would tell - the woman had seemed desperate, and her threat meant to ensure Ersa’s silence - but Ersa was fully aware that if they _were_ found out, Nasadi would most likely lay the entire blame on Ersa’s shoulders, and Ersa would be sacrificed, if not outright killed. Thinking about it formed a large, sick knot in her stomach as she found the dining area and wandered in.

Kadaman looked over as he tossed Itamen up into the air and caught him, to the boy’s delighted squeals. “Ersa! How is the queen?”

Balahn was sipping some wine, and raised an eyebrow. Ersa shrugged. “She’s resting. She’s …” Oh, hell. “Her monthly blood is coming, and she’s having terrible cramps and sickness. She’ll probably start bleeding tonight.”

Kadaman and the other men made disgusted faces, and Kadaman slung Itamen under his arm, holding him like a sack of maize flour. “Ugh, that’s disgusting, woman. A simple ‘she’s resting’ would have sufficed.”

Ersa narrowed her eyes. “Oh, but I want you to understand exactly what I mean. It feels like white-hot needles, you know, right into your abdomen. I’ve had gut wounds and I’ve had blood-cramps, and I prefer a good gut wound. Oh, and then the _bleeding_ \---”

“Stop it!” Kadaman snapped.

Ersa was grinning, now. “Huge chunks come out. _Huge.”_

“I don’t trust anything that bleeds for a week without dying,” one of the other nobles grumbled.

“And without _us_ bleeding, _you_ wouldn’t be here,” she informed him.

“Why do you suffer her impertinence, Kadaman?”

“Because Avad would cry if I tried to beat her, and I promised Mother on her deathbed that I would be nice to him.”

“You _have_ tried to beat me,” Ersa reminded him sweetly, “and I kicked your ass.”

Kadaman just laughed and started tossing Itamen again. “So you did, woman. So you did. Once everyone is asleep, we’re going hunting - you will come with us.”

“I want to swim,” Itamen said. He clung to Kadaman’s neck.

The eldest prince tweaked his nose. “Well, then, let us swim.”

An hour later they were at the water, the nobles stripped to their waists with linen trousers on, the sun glistening off of their bodies. Kadaman and Balahn were tossing Itamen back and forth as the boy shrieked with laughter, and Ersa sat with the other slaves and, quite frankly, admired their bodies. Avad was far too skinny for her tastes, but Kadaman and Balahn were both solidly built. A little too much hard muscle with not enough fat covering it, but they would do for her viewing pleasure. Denund eventually sat beside her with another slave and watched her scowl for a while before leaning back. He was freshly-washed; she could smell the soap.

“Well, ask her.”

“Do you want to go home tonight?” the new slave asked. Ersa glanced at him and corrected herself - he was in servant’s clothing, but he was neither slave nor servant. He was Oseram, all thick muscles and pot-belly, and he held himself like a soldier.

She leaned forward as Kadaman pulled Balahn’s trousers down with a laugh. “Why would I ever want to leave the services of the royal household?” she asked lightly. The Carja really disliked body hair. Fascinating.

“Because they’re butchers, every last one of them.”

“Even the child?”

“They’ll teach him their ways. We can be rid of them tonight.”

She snorted as Balahn retaliated. Yes, body hair removal seemed to be a cultural thing. “Hardly. They may be idiots, but they’re not fools. They’re too - _get out of my way,”_ she snapped as Janeva walked in front of her. _“I’m enjoying the view.”_

Janeva snorted and idly kicked sand in Ersa’s direction. “You’re ogling the prince.”

“I didn’t say it was a _good_ view,” Ersa griped, “but it will do, and you’re in the way. _Move.”_ The guard walked off with another snort and Ersa had to wait until Avad and Poak had also gotten in her way and moved before she could watch Kadaman and Balahn again without interruption. “Too heavily-guarded,” she finally finished. “Ugh. What do these people have against a good beard?”

“They’re not as guarded as they think they are. I have … people.”

Ersa was quiet as she thought about it. Then she raised her voice. _“Why are you letting me starve?”_ Avad raised his head from where he was sharing some meat and wine with Poak, and gave her a confused look. _“I’m hungry. Why are you letting me starve?”_

The prince rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m sorry you can’t go five minutes without stuffing your face,” and Poak snorted a little, “but you’ll be fed soon.” Poak was sitting on some cushions, but Avad was stretched out shamelessly in front of him, propped up on one arm, with Poak every once in a while reaching out to gently stroke his hip or arm.

“Unless you’re satisfied with _your_ station, and don’t care about our people getting murdered even as we speak.”

She narrowed her eyes and turned her head slowly to the man as Denund murmured about it being a mistake. “And what do you think will happen if the queen _and_ princes all die?” she asked with tightly-controlled fury. “I don’t like being a slave. I hate it - _but the princes are our best chances of ending this damn massacre._ Do you think Jiran will just roll over and surrender once _all_ of his heirs are dead? Of course he won’t - he’ll start by razing this whole damn village, then move on to anyone connected to anyone who was here. Then he’ll make _more_ heirs, and there’s no guarantee _they_ will be as against the Raids as the current batch.”

“And what have the princes done so far, to stop him?”

“Not nearly enough,” Ersa snapped, “but if you want to stop the Raids, take out Jiran and put one of _them_ on the throne. Avad would pull all the troops back immediately. I’m pretty sure Kadaman would, as well - if only because he _does_ take Avad’s counsel at times, and Avad would _definitely_ pressure him to.” She looked over at the man and raised an eyebrow. “There are at least four Oseram here. Do you want Jiran to burn Mainspring to the ground? Because he will, if his heirs die. He will butcher all the Oseram in Meridian, and then he’ll turn to the Claim. You want me to help take out Jiran? Great - I’m all for that. _But if you try to harm the princes, I **will** do **everything** I can to stop you._ Is that clear, _soldier?”_

“She’s right, Mekahl” Denund murmured. He looked up and smiled as a thick, honey-skinned Oseram woman walked up and settled next to him.

“Ersa Freebooter! What a sight for sore eyes. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah, it takes more than a few machines to take _me_ out.” Ersa grinned and reached out to clasp hands with Belda. “Hey, what do you think would happen if the royal family died right now?”

The black-haired woman threw her head back and barked with laughter. It drew curious looks, but no one came over. “The king’d kill everyone here, then probably launch a full assault on the Claim. Why?”

Ersa gave the other man a pointed look as Kadaman strolled up, dripping wet, the linen of his trousers almost completely sheer. She flapped her hands at him and gagged. “Get that thing out of my face. What do you want?”

He laughed, reached down to grasp her arm, and pulled her up. “Come on, woman. Go. Why are you so _mean?”_

She shrugged him off and placed her fists on her hips. “To start, your father is brutally murdering my people and I’m a slave. That would make _anyone_ cranky.” Kadaman just snorted as he stared down at her, thick arms crossed over his tanned chest, blond hair plastered to his skull. “And then, I haven’t had sex in _forever,_ but since I became a slave I’ve got _issues_ with it, and _that_ just _really_ makes me cranky on _multiple_ levels.” The corners of his eyes tightened a little, but he rolled them anyway. _“And_ Janeva isn’t letting me eat, so I’m always hungry - and being hungry makes me mean.” That had Kadaman snorting with laughter. Ersa shrugged. “Also, I hate you all. What do you want?”

“I need you to drown Tedolin.”

Ersa blinked up at him. From this angle, the sun shone behind his head and gave him an aura that was downright radiant, reflecting off of his damp skin and highlighting his physique. No wonder he was so damn popular with the Carja - he fit with their sun obsession perfectly. “Uh … not that I’m exactly _opposed_ to that, but … _why?”_

She got a shrug. “I’m bored.” He waved towards a servant, who was holding some more linen clothing. “Come on, get dressed and into the water.”

Ersa picked up the strips of linen and the trousers and gave Kadaman a doubtful look. “Uhm … do I _have_ to?” It was dark linen, at least. He nodded. “I should kill you all tonight,” she muttered as she looked around.

“What, and leave Father to his own devices? Your people would be butchered within a week.”

She was turned and pushed toward a small building, and changed quickly. Janeva had followed her in and helped her tie the linen strips tightly around her breasts. The soldier paused with one hand on the door. “Are you alright with this?” he asked quietly.

Ersa blinked at him as she tried to pull the linen so it covered more of her, a paranoid itch right between her shoulder blades. Even with the fabric being as dark as it was, she still felt … exposed. She would have to touch men like this. She took a few deep breaths and swallowed.

“Prince Avad will put a stop to this, if you like.”

She snorted and jerked her head to clear it. “He’s too absorbed in his darling Poak. What’s he even get from that guy, to make it worth it?”

“The respect and attention he doesn’t get from his father or brother.” Janeva’s lips twitched a little when Ersa looked at him sharply. “Balahn gets chatty when he’s drinking. Will you be alright?”

Ersa pushed the door open and stomped out, watching the men watch her. She raised her chin in defiance and glared. Kadaman grinned and shook his finger at her. “Now _there_ is a set of abs that I can respect. Here I was thinking you just laid around and ate all day.”

The sun burned on her pale skin. Avad’s jaw dropped as she stalked by. She didn’t know if she was smirking or snarling by the time she got to Tedolin, but he clearly wasn’t expecting her to _actually_ try to drown him, because he let her get within grabbing distance and only threw up his hands in a mock-fearful manner. Ersa stooped and hit his stomach with her shoulder, using her momentum to swing him up and then down into the water behind her, twisting to wrap her legs around his waist and her arm around his throat, holding tightly as he started to thrash in panic. She waited, staring at Kadaman until the prince yelled at her to let Tedolin go. Then she stood and hauled herself out of arm’s reach while the other nobles pulled him up.

“You would have really killed him,” the elder prince commented.

Ersa shrugged. “No. You’re all here to see it - I’d be dead by now if I’d have tried.” The water felt good, actually, and she idly slapped it with her hands and raised an eyebrow. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing, now.” Kadaman rubbed his chin. “The queen apparently requires your ... feminine understanding ... tonight, so you will _not_ be hunting with us. Pity. Talanah and Brativin should show up. Oh, well. I suppose no one pointed out the servants’ quarters to you. You ran off with Balahn fairly quickly after we got here.”

“Yeah,” Ersa nodded as she sank into the waist-high water and blew bubbles. “We’re gonna elope. I’m gonna have _all_ his babies.”

“You weren’t supposed to say anything, damn it,” Balahn laughed. “Now I have to pay your damn dowry, and I don’t have enough for it.”

“Well, then, you shouldn’t have started a war to get my attention. Now you’ve got it. Give me my damn dowry.”

Balahn scowled at her. “I don’t know where I’m going to find that much beer.” Ersa snorted and he jerked his head back toward the shore. “Get out of here. I can’t enjoy myself if I’m anticipating a knife to the back.”

Ersa stood up and slogged away. “Yeah, well, I can enjoy the view better from over here,” she muttered. There was another servant waiting, and she raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

“The Queen requests your company,” she was told.

She sighed and picked up her clothes. “Fine. Bring me some bottles of hot water - as hot as you can get them.” Once in Nasadi’s room, she changed into a night shirt and slid in bed in front of the queen, who was curled tightly on her side and taking shallow breaths. She slid one of the hot ceramic bottles between them. “Hey. Just, uh, snuggle up. The heat will help. Have you taken anything for the pain?”

“As much as I dare,” Nasadi whispered. “Childbirth is worse.”

“Well, I’ll take your word for it.” Ersa let Nasadi get comfortable against her, one dark arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She lay there silently and hoped that Mekahl wouldn’t be so foolish as to try to murder the royal family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, not only do I work really hard to write engaging, entertaining stories, but I do it for free. I don't plan on changing that, however, if you like my work and would like to pitch in to help me pay the bills, you can always toss me some change via [PayPal](https://www.paypal.me/LarissaFae) and I would be so incredibly overjoyed.
> 
> Thank you!


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